


Only Fools Rush In

by superb_mediocrity



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Confusion, Duty, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, NSFW, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 08:44:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 42,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6111211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superb_mediocrity/pseuds/superb_mediocrity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inquisitor Aaiva Lavellan has unwittingly become the supposed "Herald of Andraste" and leader of the Inquisition. Solas finds the girl intriguing, though his interest in her makes him wonder at his own intentions and his commitment to his original cause. </p>
<p>This is a multi-chapter fic mainly involving my personal female Inquisitor and Solas. It begins right after they find and inhabit Skyhold.<br/>You can also find this story and more on my tumblr:      http://superb-mediocrity.tumblr.com/<br/>I hope someone sees it, and enjoys it!!!<br/>--J</p>
<p>           "Wise men say<br/>Only fools rush in<br/>But I can't help<br/>Falling in love with you"<br/>--O&B, I can't help falling in love with you--</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Only Fools Rush In...

The first thing Solas really noticed was the way she stood, feet bare on the dry grass of the courtyard. She posed like a figurine, a perfect rendition of how one should stand—relaxed but graceful, like ripples in a still pool. He liked the way the slim cut of her ankle gave way to the curve of her naked heel, the pressure from her weight on the ground causing pinkish dots to spread from the spot where her skin met earth. It was beautiful, rosy sweet, and pure. 

She had a light, cautious step, and the mage watched curiously as she padded through the sprouts of earth that surrounded the stables. She stopped in front of a plain bay mare, and took a piece of shining red from a hidden pocket in her dress. An apple. She cut the fruit in half, giving one of the halves to the mare, who gobbled the morsel gratefully, and placed a thankful lick on the inquisitor’s forehead. She laughed, a real laugh—a full, breathless sound that echoed delightfully off the stone walls that surrounded them. Placing the apple to her lips, he watched as she took a bite, noting how she paused momentarily before she chewed, savoring the taste and delighting in the simple sweetness.  


Errant thoughts emerged, quick flashes that sprung up before Solas could rationalize them away. He watched as she took another bite, her lips shining in the sun, wetted by the sweet fruit. He imagined that he could smell the apple from where he stood by the stone stairs, its scent wafting in the breeze and beckoning him nearer. The odor became so enticing, so strong, that he felt he could taste it— imagining the way the sweet flesh of the apple stained her lips with their flavor; imagining the way he would kiss, nip, and suck her lips clean of its influence until he tasted only her.

She rose to the balls of her feet and swayed, the wind seeming to swell and recess with her as she danced, guiding her, holding her, caressing the soft golden honey of her skin; a lucky partner, Solas surmised, amused by his own interest in the girl. Arms spread, she walked an imaginary line on the ground, balancing on her toes. Not even the dusty brown of the dirt staining the soles of her feet could lessen the beauty of her at this moment. In fact, the mage would go so far as to assert their function as an augmentation—giving the slender girl before him a wild charm that was primal, earthy, and innocent, and everything this world should strive to become.  


His heart leapt as he watched her lose her balance, arms swinging in a rounded arc as she stumbled and caught herself against the wood of the pen that held the horses. She laughed to herself, and shocked Solas by looking him right in the eye. Her smile was tinged with mock embarrassment as she shook her head at him, rolling her eyes seemingly at her own clumsiness. The mage took a breath, concerned by the way it shook briefly in his throat before being expelled. There was no need for alarm, there had been no danger—she had been on solid ground. So why was his heart banging against the walls of his chest? No, there had been no actual danger, but during the moment the danger had seemed so imminent, so real, so permanent. 

He watched as she began her march yet again, his throat constricting at his own damning self-realization. By the force of some unconscious desire, he knew that he had done the unacceptable. He watched her, slender and young and perilously fragile, the wind her gentle partner as she passed the time. He smiled as she stumbled again, catching her balance quickly this time and righting herself on the balls of her feet. A deep ache rang in his chest, rising to his throat, and stinging his eyes. His smile dimmed into a crooked line, the sky-blue of his eyes darkening into a sad, stormy grey. He lifted the corners of his mouth in a moment of fatalistic determination, consciously deciding to soothe the lonely ache that had plagued him for so long. 

And even knowing that what he was doing was unwise, he allowed himself to fall even deeper.


	2. Heart of Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inquisitor Aaiva Lavellan has some trouble collecting herself after noticing Solas' attention to her. She wonders about his intentions, and her own feelings towards him. 
> 
> "Shall I stay  
> Would it be a sin?  
> If I can't help  
> Falling in love with you"  
> \--Orchid and Beryl "

“You’ll fall if you keep that up, Inquisitor” Varric said, his own throaty laugh diminishing the severity of the warning. 

Aaiva squinted down at the dwarf, and couldn’t help the smile that lifted the corners of her mouth.

The sun was high; a blinding orb of heat in a cloudless blue expanse that stretched on endlessly, covering the earth in every direction. It was a pleasant day, and the first day at Skyhold that really tasted of summer and warmth. Even the wind seemed to be enjoying the weather, acting as a pleasant murmur to blow away the harsher edges of the heat with its soothing, sweet caress. 

The nook where Aaiva lay was in a relatively empty part of Skyhold. It was a crumbling portion of the ramparts, some skirmish or disaster having knocked a large part of the wall away. The view from there was wonderful, the peaks of countless mountains the only thing that broke the blue sheet of sky. Aaiva loved it there, the threat of a collapsing wall or falling stones doing much to keep it relatively free of passersby. It was quiet, a place where she could get away and have a few precious moments of solitary comfort; a place away from prying eyes and wagging tongues. Aaiva lay still for a moment before answering, seemingly unperturbed by Varric’s intrusion. 

“Now, I doubt that, Master Tethras.” Rolling onto her side to face him, Aaiva sat up on her elbow, too lazy to do much else. 

“Did I ever tell you the story about the girl, she was an elf too if I am not mistaken, who climbed to the roof of the Viscount’s Keep in Kirkwall to take in some sun? Her friend, a rather handsome dwarf, came and warned her against it, but she didn’t listen. Well, events transpired and she ended up falling to her death. Very tragic.”

Aaiva smiled broadly, white teeth glimmering in the light. “Oh, Varric, that’s no fun. Besides, shouldn’t you be happy? I am reading one of your stories after all.” She held the book out so that the title was visible to the dwarf down below.

Varric just chuckled, murmuring something about a “stubborn girl” and went on his way, leaving Aaiva to her diversions. She felt a sad tug in her stomach as he left, she always liked his company, but the sensation was quickly replaced by relief at being alone again. As soon as the coast was clear, she popped the book closed. In truth the novel had been no more than a prop, a tool to disguise her solitary brooding as she hid precariously close to the edge of a crumbling wall. Turning onto her back so that the sun hit her face and neck directly, she closed her eyes, letting her body relax into the warm stone and attempting to clear her mind. 

This proved to be easier said than done as a myriad of conflicting thoughts and emotions consumed her. She wondered why she had so much trouble collecting herself, but she knew the answer to that question as soon as it formed itself in her head. 

Because he had been watching her.

It was curious, to say the least, and the realization only created more questions and feelings that Aaiva could barely regulate, least of all understand.  
She had been by the stables, she remembered, to see the horses. She almost fell. Blue on gray on white, she watched the way his eyes shone clearly in the sunlight, like snippets of the sky itself had become trapped in his gaze. He had smiled at her, a soft, sad smile that had entreated her to come closer. She could never forget that smile.  
But why had been watching her?

Insecurity told her it was just his interest in the mark; that he felt the need to keep tabs on her to observe its progression. However, in her heart of hearts, a secret hope manifested, spreading and filling the girl with a fluttering warmth that reached from the points of her ears to the tips of her toes.  
In truth, he had caught her interest long before coming to Skyhold.

There were times in Haven when she loved nothing more than to pass the time with Solas; discussing magic and the fade. She loved how his face would light up, eyes twinkling as he explained some complex concept or memory, his excitement contagious as he recounted curious events from his travels. But things had changed after the battle in Haven. Ever since finding Skyhold, they had rarely spoken—and she hadn’t known if something she had done had triggered this behavior. 

There were times when she would catch him in the rotunda, as he painted or read, and she would try to engage him, to spark the easy companionship she had so admired in his company, but to no avail. She wondered briefly if he knew she had noticed the rift in their friendship— or if he noticed the way she would frequently catch herself watching him as she read in the library. A memory popped to the forefront of her mind, a small moment days before when she had found Solas in the midst of painting a portion of the rotunda. She remembered that he had been standing, looking up at his work, arms crossed over his chest. His long face was screwed up into a tight ball of frustrated concentration, a deep crease forming between his brows. She remembered having had a strange impulse in that moment—a flashing desire to go to him and hold him in her arms. Her heart sang out to him involuntarily, and she wanted nothing more than to kiss that spot of wrinkled skin on his forehead and soothe the worried look from his eyes.

Embarrassment flooded through her at the turn of her thoughts, and she bit her lip as a score of tumultuous emotions fluttered and wormed their way through her brain and to the pit of her stomach. Her heart of hearts spoke up again in this moment, flooding her brain with images: the gentle motion of his wrist as he painted—his eyes, so vividly blue in the sunlight—his lips, rounded and full, their beauty enhanced by his lilted, rolling speech. The images worked quickly, filling the deep hollow dug by every self-depreciating bout of doubt and fear she had felt regarding the situation. But the effects of their magic eventually dissipated, the confident warmth they had given her receding as that recurring thought surfaced again.

Why her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope someone sees this and enjoys :)  
> Please feel free to leave comments or [constructive] criticism.  
> Follow me on Tumblr to read these, and more:
> 
> http://superb-mediocrity.tumblr.com/


	3. Stay With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a glimpse into Inquisitor Lavellan's past with her clan before she came to the Conclave in Ferelden.
> 
> Warning: contents are NSFW  
> CONTAINS sexual intercourse/ aka SMUTTY SMUT SMUT :)

_The rough comfort of calloused hands on her bare skin roused her senses. His touch was light, a trickle of sensation that tickled and teased its way across the naked expanse of her breasts and trailed down her stomach. It was tortuous the way his hands tended to her, touching her lightly as to make her crave the effect of their ministrations, but not enough to satisfy the growing ache that dampened the spot between her legs._

_The autumn breeze whispered enticingly as it meandered through the forest, bringing the promise of winter to purify the earth of summers’ spell. The brisk cut of the air was protested only by the rattling of dried leaves as they clung desperately to their branches, the inevitability of their fate all but invisible from where they hung, clinging to the last twinges of summer and life._

_Skin on skin, the warm friction of naked bodies echoed through the trees, carried on the back of winter’s breezy messenger. Hard, frenzied lips sought her own, their desperation equally matched as she answered their call. Hungrily the couple devoured each other, existing solely in that moment so that, for this brief period of bliss, everything else became obsolete._

_The growing pressure of his member against her thigh spurred her on, the frenzy of their lips increasing as tell of his desire grew. Some primal instinct took over her then, and she rolled against the stiffness, delighting in the way his cock slid easily against the slick folds between her legs. This elicited a gasp from Taloain, whose cry was immediately stifled by another desperate kiss from Aaiva._

_Aaiva rolled her hips again, sliding herself from the base of his member to the tip, swallowing another moan from her lover. She briefly noted that she could feel the building of something herself, a sort of delicious pressure that echoed Taloain’s own, making her brain feel cloudy and full. She made to roll her hips again, but was stopped by Taloain’s firm grip on her hips._

_He gazed at her, wonder and amazement lighting the deep dark of his eyes. He regarded her for several moments, an unstated question brandished by the slow burning pink that flushed his face. –are you sure? — His eyes seemed to say as they peered into her, probing, searching for the answer to the question that plagued him so._

_Her answer was swift as she rolled her hips again, arranging herself so that the tip of his member met the entrance of her sex. She lowered herself down slowly, squeezing her eyes closed at the over-full feeling._

_And suddenly everything was slow._

_He moved first, easy and deliberate with his movements. Aaiva relaxed into the motion, allowing her body to melt around him as he moved; getting used to the way his member stretched her most intimate area. She opened her eyes to find his own, pleased with the look of contentment on his face. His eyes were heavy and clouded as they gazed at her in wordless admiration, his lips pursed into a tight ‘o’ of pleasure._

_His gaze never left her own; even as his body came undone beneath her. He held her tightly as he came, her lips doing their part to quiet the shuddering moans of pleasure that echoed softly in the woods as he found his release. He pulled himself out of her slowly, attempting to be gentle and not hurt the girl by being careless. Aaiva marveled at what they had just done, the veil over that mystery successfully lifted._

_Everything seemed to pass in a hazy blur as they gathered themselves, righting their hair and clothing so as to be presentable._

_The girl finished adjusted her clothing, a deep sadness pulling her from her haze and creating a hollow in her stomach that made tears hang threateningly in the corners of her eyes._

_There was a brittle resignation in her voice when she spoke, a tight, terse twinge that twisted her speech into a crisp whisper._

_“I have to go, Tally.”_

_She could read the devastation easily on his face._

_Neither of them spoke as they walked to camp, only the passing whispers of the wind filling the silence. Even in the midst of camp, surrounded by her friends and people she had known for years as they wished her luck, Aaiva felt discontentedly alone—the memory of her and Taloain’s romp in the woods making her feel confused and strangely afraid. It had been unexpected; a desperate, foolish reaction to a hopeless situation…but Aaiva didn’t regret it, although she did wonder how Taloain was feeling about it all._

_“Please.”_

_A pressure on the small of her back alerted her to Taloain’s presence beside her. He spoke low, in a pleading tone that pressed desperately against the edges of Aaiva’s heart. The girl spun around, her response spurred by frustration and anger at Taloain’s refusal to accept her decision._

_“The keeper has asked me to go, and the clan agrees. I cannot defy the request of the keeper and clan just to satisfy the whims of a—”_

_“Whim? You think this is a whim?” Taloain’s voice was gruff, deepened by emotion._

_“No! I just mean…” Aaiva’s voice seemed lost for a moment as she searched for the right words to explain. “…wanting to stay is not enough of a reason to refuse the command of our Keeper.”_

_“No, you mean I’m not enough. I’m not enough to keep you here. You want to go out into the world to find this supposed ideal that you think could possibly exist. You’re basing your life on conjecture—on some fantasy that could just lead to nothing.”_

_“You have no right to tell me what to do, Tally!”_

_Her voice was strained, terse, stretched out into a high pitched wail that sounded strange and foreign to her ears. Dark eyes pleaded with her, begging her to reconsider, begging her to stay._

_Their voices were drawing a crowd. Curious faces peered up from their tasks, their eyes darting from her to Tally in interest.  
“Who knows what will happen with those shemlens at this conclave.”_

_“I need this Tally. You know I—“, but her voice faltered. They had discussed this too many times to count. He was her best friend in the entire world, and he knew everything about her; her hopes, her dreams. He knew she wanted this, he knew how desperately she wanted out. She suddenly felt exhausted, the pack on her shoulders seeming to weigh ten times more than when she had packed it an hour ago._

_The crunch of feet on fallen leaves alerted her to the Keeper’s approach. He wore a sad smile on his wrinkled face._

_“I’m sorry Tally, I have to go.”_

_She gave the boy a flimsy hug, muttering a flustered goodbye and turning quickly away, knowing full well that she was perilously close to losing all resolve and deciding to stay. With a firm pat on the back, the Keeper spurred her onward, kind words of encouragement following her as she walked from the fringes of camp into the edge of the wood. Aaiva paused, the cold chill of the breeze causing the wet tracks that lined her cheeks to sting. After a moment, she adjusted her pack and walked forward, beginning her journey into the dark unknown, and refusing to look back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy :)  
> Please feel free to comment   
> Also, feel free to follow me on Tumblr where you can read this and see other things involving dragon age
> 
> http://superb-mediocrity.tumblr.com/


	4. Campfire Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inquisitor Lavellan and Solas get close while he heals one of her injuries. Just a cute little fluff piece. :) <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually originally part of my Drabble Post folder, but I decided to go ahead and add in as an actual chapter. It originated as being an answer to a prompt that called for certain lines to be used. The prompt can be found on my Tumblr page if you're curious. 
> 
> http://superb-mediocrity.tumblr.com/
> 
> I love comments!

“I think it’s broken.”

Salty tears spilled from deep pools of honey-brown, their wetness highlighting the flecks of amber that took on a reddish hue in the firelight. Streaks of black kohl ran down from her eyes and stained her cheeks, the peaks of color corresponding with the pattern of fallen tears. 

“It is not broken, da’len.” 

The words felt strange on his tongue, the muscle having been so unaccustomed to such acts of endearment or intimacy. But even with the strangeness, there was a pleasure in the action, a sense of rightness that fluttered into place and made his heart ache and swell into his throat. 

She mewled dramatically as he lifted her arm to examine the swollen, red skin around her wrist. He handled it gingerly, taking care not to exacerbate the wound, and lightly stroked the area with the tips of his fingers, expelling small waves of healing magic in an attempt to lessen the pain. She whimpered at his touch, and he almost laughed at her reaction. In truth, it was barely more than a sprain, something that would heal naturally within a few days’ time if rested properly, but still she reacted as though it were paining her greatly, even as the effects of his magic took hold and the swelling went down. 

She was proving to be a horrible patient, but Solas didn’t mind her whining. It was oddly charming, he thought, to see how such emotion manifested itself in the girl. It evidenced her youth, how unused she was to any sort of great pain or injury, and this made the mage feel a bizarre sort of pleasure to know that her world thus far seemed relatively free of hurt or loss.

Absentmindedly, his fingers danced over the soft brown of her skin as he magicked away her pain, his feather-light touches creating goosebumps in their wake. Solas couldn’t help but notice how close they were at this moment, all his previous attempts towards keeping her at a distance seemingly inconsequential. He could see clearly the soft pink that highlighted the rosy pout of her lips; their beauty eclipsed only by the flickering shine of her dark hair as the tresses fluttered and hung onto the evasive flounce of the breeze. He marveled at the delicate slope of her shoulders as she leaned towards him, the dying glow of the fire setting her bare skin alight with flame and warmth. He looked up to find her looking at him, the tears in her eyes replaced by a hungry darkness that drew Solas in and captivated him entirely, like an insect caught in a web. 

“Put some clothes on, for the love of the Maker.”

The superfluously obnoxious sound of Dorian’s entrance into camp startled the couple from their reverie. The inquisitor yanked back her hand, and held it gingerly to her chest, looking bashfully down towards the ground. Solas regarded the intruder agitatedly, a slow, angry burn radiating down from his ears. 

“It’s pitch black, and I can see you’re blushing, Solas. Up to no good are we?”

“Hello, Dorian.”

The greeting sounded false, even to himself, and Solas could feel his irritation towards Dorian mounting, the heat from his ears creeping down to his cheeks. It had been ages since he had felt this sort of boiling, festering frustration, and it reminded him woefully of his youth. 

“Oh, leave the kids alone, Dorian. Chuckles here was just helping the Inquisitor with an injury is all.” Varric garnished his comment with a dramatic wink in their direction, chiming his opinion loudly for everyone within earshot to hear. This made Dorian chuckle, a loud burst of sound that seemed to make the flames brighten with its mirth. 

“Well they might as well be naked. The sexual tension is palpable”, Dorian responded, dragged out the last word to emphasize his point.

A flash of movement caught Solas’ attention, and he turned to see the Inquisitor covering her mouth as she attempted to control a burst of giggles. 

“I’m sorry Solas…” she whispered, her voice lilting delightfully and giving his name a silky soft musicality that seemed to hum in the air, “…but you are blushing!”


	5. This Couch Ain't Big Enough For The Two Of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inquisitor Aaiva Lavellan has a bit too much to drink and invites herself over to stay with Solas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually originally part of my Drabble Post folder, but I decided to go ahead and add in as an actual chapter. It originated as being an answer to a prompt that called for certain lines to be used. The prompt can be found on my Tumblr page if you're curious. 
> 
> http://superb-mediocrity.tumblr.com/
> 
> I love comments!

It was a gray day, humid and wet; a stormy pressure weighing heavily on all those who called Skyhold home. The clouds hung low, almost close enough to touch, tufts of gray swirling in the breeze. Thunder echoed on the wind’s heel, rumbling the foundations of earth and sky to convey its grumbling message: I am coming, I am coming, I am coming.

Trapped inside by the threat of rain, the Inquisitor wandered the halls of her new home. Something in the feel of the air reminded her of her clan, of days spent in aravels, the familiar comfort of the Keeper’s stories keeping them warm in the nasty weather. She pushed the memories away from her mind as a sharp pang echoed deep in her heart, feeding off of the smothered feelings of loss and loneliness that had been secretly consuming her since the breach. She attempted to ignore the emotions that threatened to devour her, and forced her little-used sense of duty to take over. She could not afford to be sentimental; she could not afford to lose focus. 

She looked for something to do, trying desperately to occupy herself with petty diversions, but nothing held her attention. As a last resort, she busied herself with work, approving requisitions and reading the letters that had piled up on her desk. The work was mindless, however, and the monotony allowed her mind to wander back to her clan, back to a life that could no longer support her with its simplicity. 

Her attempts to quiet her mind were failing, and she searched for solace in every way she could imagine—a quest that somehow ended with her staring into the bottom of an empty bottle. The drink had been sweet, with a sharp, clear taste that reminded her of raspberries. However, now bereft of her distraction, she roamed like a wraith through the stronghold, wretched in her melancholy, and desperate for a diversion. The pungent smell of paint caught her attention, and she followed it willingly, ending up in the rotunda; witness to Solas as he painted another panel of the magnificent fresco that covered the high walls. 

She sat on the large sofa and watched him quietly, the alcohol making her head buzz pleasantly. It was wonderful, the way he painted, she mused; watching delightedly as his expert hand applied the grand sweeps of color. The simple motion of him painting did much to quiet the roar inside her head, and she became sleepy, her eyelids seeming to grow impossibly heavy as she watched him. 

Something cool brushed her cheek, rousing her from her sleep. She leaned into the cold, delighting in how cleansing it felt against her fevered skin, and opened her eyes to a blur of hazy shapes. Blinking her eyes clear, she saw a very perplexed looking Solas, his hand on her cheek , and a deep, cloudy worry in his eyes that made his brow furrow with concern. He let his hand drop away from her face as she sat up, and the girl couldn’t help but feel upset at the sudden absence of his touch. 

“I fear you have stolen my bed, Inquisitor.” 

His voice was soft as he regarded her; polite, but tinged with an almost imperceptible confusion that subtly manifested itself in his wary greeting. 

“Hello to you too, Solas.” 

Even through the raucous buzzing in her head, she could still recognize the evidence of her slumber in the gravely hoarseness of her voice. Despite the sound, his eyes lit up at her words, a twinkling shine brightening the worried blue. 

“Why has the Inquisitor decided to grace my presence at such a late hour?”

“I felt lonely…I wanted to see what you were up to.”

The words came out friendlier than she had intended, and the mage smiled at her in amused surprise, the dark clouds returning to his eyes. A blinding heat rose hastily to her face once she realized what she had said, and she wished desperately that she could go back in time and cut out her tongue before uttering a word to the mage. 

She fell back down to the couch, hiding her face amidst the soft pillows that littered the cushions. The wine was making her chatty, her tongue ready to spill every secret thing she was trying so hard to forget. Regaining some composure, she tried to explain her answer. 

“I mean, it was raining, and I felt…you would think, that with so many people…” she blubbered the words in a confusing mess of emotion. She must be more intoxicated than she realized if she wasn’t even able to say simple sentences. 

If he could smell the wine on her, he didn’t mention it, and Aaiva was grateful. Instead, he sat next to her, demonstrating an easy grace in his movements that surprised the girl, and looked at her with a tender kindness she hadn’t seen in ages.

“I understand da’len.”

His voice was gentle; soft splashes of sound that washed over the inquisitor and covered her completely with their kindness.

They were incredibly close, so close that she imagined she could feel the warmth radiating off of his body, and smell the earthy scent of wet grass, leaves, and parchment. It was a heady smell, perfectly Solas, and it made her head swim deliciously in response. His proximity was beginning to affect her greatly, or maybe it the alcohol, and she briefly wondered if he could hear her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Even so, she liked the way it felt having him so close to her. It felt good, right, almost satisfying in a way—like taking a deep, cleansing breath. 

“Can I stay here tonight?” 

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and his eyes widened dramatically into bright, blue orbs of bafflement. After a moment, the shock seemed to dissipate and he looked at her warily, considering her question. Aaiva like him this way, his face screwed up into a freckled mass of confusion. It was rare to get such extreme reactions out of him, at least in her experience. He always seemed so collected, in control, and Aaiva felt a perverse sense of satisfaction knowing she had actually done something that made him react this way. 

“You want to sleep here with me?” He spoke slowly, enunciating every syllable, his voice dripping with incredulity.

She rolled her eyes at his tone.

“I don’t underst—“

She cut him off before he could finish, the alcohol making her bold. 

“Not everything has to mean something, Solas! Besides, if I have clothes on, it’s not technically sleeping with each other.” 

She laughed at her own joke, too drunk at this point to be surprised by her declaration. The mage was silent for a moment, his eyes returning to that worried shade of foggy blue as he considered her words. 

The sofa was large enough for them both to fit comfortably, and Solas lay down timidly next to her, gingerly turning so that his body fit in line with hers. The torches dimmed slightly, casting the room in semi-darkness, and Aaiva suspected that Solas was the culprit behind the loss of light. Eventually his breathing slowed, and she wondered if he was dreaming of the fade. She imagined what it would be like to dream like him, always wandering, searching for the forgotten truths that only the fade could provide. She let the thought consume her, lulling her to sleep with thoughts of leaves and parchment and grass after it rains.


	6. Does Fade-Tongue count?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning-after fade tongue cuddles between the Inquisitor and Solas.   
> This chapter is meant to be read after my Drabble Post #2 "This couch ain't big enough for the two of us". The drabble post gives some background on what is going on, so i recommend checking it out before reading this chapter :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy :p

This is meant to be read after my Drabble post #2, “This couch ain’t big enough for the two of us”. This chapter takes place after the Fade Kiss. I hope somebody out there sees this and likes it! I love and encourage comments by the by . 

Solas awoke with the taste of the dream still on his lips— the recollection sweet and heady; a dizzying testament to their brief dalliance in the fade. He could still taste her kiss; feel the soft pressure of her mouth, her lips stained by desire and wine, her distinct taste present even as they dreamt. His mind was overcome by the memory of contact, of that tentative exploration that made any remaining piece of his resolve to maintain his distance crumble away until all he saw, all he wanted, was her—her lips, her mind, everything she was, and everything she would become. 

He allowed his memory of her to linger, to shape the reality of that fickle realm that exists only in those precious moments between sleep and wakefulness. They came slowly at first, trickling lazily over the fabric of his mind, but the trickle changed into a rush as he became more aware, those fateful words echoing woefully in his ears.

“You change…everything”. 

Ugh. He had been a fool, too forward…to bold. The first rule of gambling is to never show your hand, but something about her had caused him to lay his cards all out on the table. The worst part of it all was that she truly had changed everything. Nothing seemed fixed anymore, nothing certain. Every single decision, every plan he had in place until this moment lay in question, destroyed by the scorching fire of her lips on his as they explored their desire together. 

Solas shifted as the memory roused something within him, the dream beginning to fade away as a pleasurably warm ache pulsated from his core and spread throughout the rest of his body. He felt the girl beginning to stir as well, and he pulled her close so that he lay flush against her, his head in the soft hollow of her neck. Her hair tickled his nose, the dark tresses beginning to fall free from the braid that fell loosely down her back, but he didn’t mind; he welcomed the sensation, breathing in the intoxicating aroma that permeated the lovely golden bronze of her skin, so clean and sweet and devastatingly complex. Soap, he mused, accompanied by faint whispers of cinnamon and honey mixed with something else. Was it oranges he could smell? Peaches? 

The loud chatter of voices in the main hall rose and reverberated off of the rounded stone walls of the rotunda, announcing the start of breakfast. Everyone would be rising soon, eager to start the day, but he stayed rooted to the sofa, desperate to keep her exactly as she was and happy to stay there for as long as he was able to feel her against him; warm, soft, and utterly perfect. He lay still, begging her silently not to wake, not to dissolve this moment, but another loud clatter of voices echoed through the hall and the girl murmured softly in response, leaning back against him and stretching an arm forcefully into the air. 

She stayed like that for a moment, arm raised as she gradually woke up, making soft noises of complaint as more voices drifted in from outside the door. Turning onto her back, she blinked her eyes open, her pupils contracting into the amber expanse of her irises as they acclimatized to the harsh light of morning. Solas couldn’t help but watch, fascinated by the devastating beauty that lay before him, and, even rumpled and groggy from sleep, he couldn’t help but admire her. 

“Sleep well?”

He tried to hide the delight in his voice, but to no avail, and his words were tinged with a slight amusement that would most certainly not be lost on the girl. 

A faint pink blush tinted the tips of her ears as she looked over at him; a shy embarrassment creeping up and making her reluctant to look him in the eye. His heart swelled for her in that moment, her timid glances making her all the more endearing. 

“I…have never done anything like that before…on a number of levels.” 

Ah! So she did remember. Her voice was low, however, husky from sleep and infused with an unspoken apology, and Solas laughed at his own stupidity. Did she regret what had happened? The mage felt an agonizing fear, a nervous clawing deep in his chest that scratched and dug at his heart.

“I apologize, the kiss was impulsive and ill-considered. And I should not have encouraged it.”

A spurt of tinkling laughter erupted from the girl, shattering the tension that had accumulated around them.

“You say that, but you’re the one who started with tongue!”

Solas laughed incredulously, feigning ignorance. 

“I did no such thing!”

“Oh, does it not count if it’s only fade tongue?”

He had to squash the impulse to take her right then, to grab that mass of lovely black hair and kiss her, really kiss her—hard and deep until they were both breathless and wanting. A slight twitch of his cock echoed the sentiment, and he put all his energy into calming the rush of desire that threatened to overtake him.

“It…has been a long time, and things have always been…easier for me in the fade…” 

Reason suddenly manifested then, and Solas added reluctantly: “…I am not certain this is the best idea. It could lead to trouble.”

The twinkle of light in her eyes dimmed, and her body became small as she sunk down into the cushions where they lay. 

“I am willing to take that chance…if you are.” Her voice came out soft but hopeful as she responded, and it took Solas everything he had to hide the excited grin that he felt growing on his face. For several moments he was unable to speak, doubt and shock making him mute. 

The mage lay across from her, agonizing over the proper course of action, but his thoughts were scattered, impossible to connect as she watched him with those big amber eyes. He knew it was a bad idea, he knew it would hurt them both, but there was something so impossibly irresistible about her that he considered it unimaginable to stay away.

The sudden presence of her hand on his own distracted him from his drifting thoughts, and he watched as she traced languid lines on his skin with her fingertips. Her touch was electric, her dainty fingers sending jolts of heated energy that traveled from his hand to the very core of his being. The sensation was strange, but arousing, and he wondered if it was some strange sort of magic she was casting, or if that was just the effect she had on him. He felt himself leaning in towards her. They were so close, so temptingly close, and all he wanted to do was touch her.

“I may be, yes…if I could take a little time to think. There are…considerations.”

He forced the words out in a rush, his mind hazy and confused. Even though he didn’t want to, he knew he desperately needed to think about this before jumping in. 

“Take all the time you need.” Her voice sounded relieved, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. 

“Thank you,” he sighed, “…I am not often thrown by things that happen in dreams—“ Aaiva silenced him with a quick peck on the cheek, and Solas marveled at the warmth that blossomed in the area where her lips touched him. 

“Does this mean we’re friends again?”

“What do you mean, da’len?”

“Don’t be coy Solas, it’s clear you haven’t wanted anything to do with me recently.” 

Her words shocked him for a moment. He hadn’t intended for his distance to make her feel this way, and he didn’t know how to respond without making the situation worse. What could he say? That he found her irresistible? That she was making him reconsider everything he thought he knew? That he was falling for her? 

“I am sorry da’len. I had no intention of making you feel that way. I…thought it would be wiser to keep my distance. I don’t want to distract you from your duty as Inquisitor.”

It wasn’t completely a lie. 

She squinted her eyes. He could see that she didn’t believe him, but thankfully she remained silent.

A burst of laughter rang through the hall, and Aaiva sat up abruptly at the noise. Yawning, she stretched again. Solas sat up as well, straightening his clothing. Standing up, he turned to look at her and saw the loveliest smile etched onto her face. 

“Are you ready for breakfast?”

She reached a small hand out to him, and he took it, helping her from the sofa. She traipsed out the door, walking in that light, airy way that he adored. He followed after her willingly, excited and hopeful for the first time in a long while about the future. 

Feel free to comment if you so desire :)  
\--J

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/constructive criticism both welcomed and encouraged. I like to hear what i am doing right/wrong and what you guys like to read!
> 
> Also, feel free to follow me on Tumblr so you can check out this story and other stuff!
> 
> http://superb-mediocrity.tumblr.com/


	7. Bath-Time  *NSFW*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inquisitor Lavellan gets knocked on her ass a few to many times and decides to unwind with a bath...a very fun bath.

“You must learn this, Inquisitor!”

Commander Cullen’s voice urged her on from several yards away, the plea barely audible over the clamor of metal and the furious scuffle of bodies as soldiers groped and scrapped in the training yard. The soldier before her stood in position, motionless save for the steady adjustment of his fingers around the hilt of the sword he held. In a sudden burst of movement, the soldier rushed towards her, and Aaiva was powerless to do more than watch in horror as her feeble attempt to block his advance was overturned with ease. 

For a moment, the girl lay in a breathless daze. Everything seemed to be moving too slowly, a kaleidoscope of shivering black and gray pinpricks altering her vision. She started to float then, unable to feel the normally stabilizing pressure of the ground beneath her. A freakishly large blur then entered her line of sight, followed by a stiff pressure on her upper arm. There was a sudden yanking sensation, and the world seemed to hitch—catching slightly on the edges, and then tilted, making Aaiva’s stomach turn. The soldier was there, holding her steady as she wobbled pathetically. 

“I still don’t see why this is necessary.” Her voice was hoarse, scratchy from dust and the beating she was receiving from this training. 

Cullen responded quickly, his frustration with her obvious by the tone of his voice. “Because if you end up in close combat, you must know how to defend yourself.”

She would have rolled her eyes and said something snarky if she hadn’t been in so much pain. Why would she end up in close combat, is running no longer an option? She kept the comment to herself, frustration making her eyes water.

She got into position again, the awkward weight of the bladeless iron lance she held making her arms shake.

“This doesn’t really seem fair, Commander.” Her voice trembled as much as her arm; a wave of fresh panic arising at the sight of the soldier gripping his sword anew.

Your staff has a blade, does it not?”

Yes, well maybe if she actually had a weapon with a blade to practice with, she wouldn’t land on her ass so much. Anger was coursing through her, thick and hot in her veins. If there was something she hated more than Corypheus, it was being told what to do by asshole shemlen Commanders that looked too pretty for their armor. 

Getting into stance, she prepared herself for the next attack, doing her best to try and anticipate the soldier’s movements so she could step out of the way. If she couldn’t beat him with brawn, she would use speed to her advantage. Grasping the iron tightly in her hand she waited for the soldier to make the first move.

A sudden thwack on the soft spot behind her knees sent her flying forward. She landed on the ground with a huff, unable to move for a moment as she gasped for air. Coughing, she glanced up to see Commander Cullen looking down on her, his sword drawn, and a strange little twinkle in his eye. _Was he enjoying this?_

“Enemies do not only attack from the front, Inquisitor.”

_Fenedhis…_

….  
Grumpy and sore from Commander Cullen’s beating, Aaiva clumped her way back into the main hall, immediately turning tail and going back outside when she saw the crowd of dignitaries and ambassadors hovering around Josephine. Before she made her stealthy exit, she heard Josephine’s heavily accented voice attempting to pacify the crowd.  
“Yes, yes, I am sure the Inquisitor will be back any moment…”  
Hastily, Aaiva ducked into the tavern, limping up the two flights of stairs to where Cole usually lurked. He wasn’t there when she arrived, or at least he didn’t appear to be, and Aaiva took a seat in the far corner, reveling in the solitude.  
This had to be what she hated most about the shems, they were always there…just skulking around, watching her every movement and waiting for her to mess up.  
Even though there was constant company in her clan, there were also ways of escaping when you needed a break. One could go walking in the forest, swim in a river, pick flowers in a field; there were always ways of being alone, but not here. Ever since the conclave, there seemed to be a never-ending succession of meetings, talking, strategizing, negotiating, and networking to be done, and ever since Varric had found her sulking on the ramparts, a guard rotation had mysteriously been assigned to that section of the wall, destroying any hope she had of finding solitude there.  
There was a sudden pop, and Cole appeared, a steaming bowl of soup in his hands. Wordlessly, he handed the bowl to the girl, smiling at the bewildered look she gave him. Aaiva always liked Cole, he was comforting, though a bit odd, and he always knew how to make her feel better.  
The pale boy sat down next to her, quietly picking at a spot on his breeches. She was thankful for his silence, and began to devour the steaming meal; she hadn’t realized she was so hungry! Even though she still felt sore, the soup did help with some of her aches and pains, the scalding warmth heating her from the inside out. After she finished, she leaned back against the scratchy, cold wall. She was beginning to get sleepy, her eyes starting to droop when Cole spoke.  
“They do it because they care…the Commander, Varric. They want you safe.”  
She let the words sink in for a moment before answering. In truth, she knew that already, but it was nice to hear.  
“I know. Thank you Cole.”  
The boy just smiled, and without another word, he was gone.  
….  
Back in her chambers, Aaiva ran a bath, heating the pool of cool water with magic. She watched, mesmerized, as the steam curled lazily over the polished wooden tub. The discovery of hot water bathing was a pinnacle point in her time as Herald. Never before had she done such a thing, her only previous access to water being from rivers, ponds, or the sea. The experience was grand and novel for her, and she liked to run a bath every chance she got.  
The hot water scalded her legs as she lowered herself into it. She loved the way it made her skin burn, tiny pinpricks of sensation spreading throughout her body as the heat washed over her. She watched her hands make waves in the water, satisfied by her range of motion; the bath was already doing much to help her aching body begin to heal and relax.  
Laying back, she let her mood wash away. The good thing that had come from being battered and bruised by Cullen and his minion was that it had left her no time to think. Now that she was alone, truly alone in the warmth of the tub, her mind flew open, processing the events of the last few days.  
Her dream of Haven was on the forefront of her mind, along with the incredible result. Memories resurfaced then, thoughts of his face—that splattering of freckles so clear in the bright light of her dream; that beautiful mouth, with that sad, searching smile—the way he had leaned in towards her, so close she could feel the cool whisper of his breath as he spoke. His words had been sweet and full of a longing that manifested in his touch, his fingertips tracing a gentle line down her neck, to her shoulder and back again— but his eyes had been perplexed; confusion, desire, and reluctance combating to turn them a swirling, cloudy grey. He had wanted her, she could feel it in the way he held her hand, in the way he touched her neck and stared deeply into her eyes, but something was holding him back…  
Then she had kissed him. A quick, impulsive press of her lips onto his own that had flooded her with quiet embarrassment. She was not surprised at his response, at the way he tensed up, his hand dropping away from where it had been tracing those tantalizing lines on her skin.  
But as she turned away, trying to hide her shame, he had grabbed her, pulled her by the waist and kissed her, and not just kissed, but _kissed._  
Closing her eyes, she smiled to herself, embarrassed by her own excitement at the memory.  
She bit her bottom lip between her teeth, remembering how his mouth had felt on her own. It had been soft at first, timid and soothing, like a balm to her lonely soul. But then something had changed, he had changed. The kiss became firmer and full of a blind heat that had threatened to devour Aaiva with its ferocity. The sensation was strange, she mused. Nobody had ever kissed her like that before…not with that kind of passion. And his hands…  
Oh those hands…  
They had been everywhere; touching her ass, caressing the nape of her neck and trailing down to the small of her back. The soft whisper of his fingers against her skin had almost driven her mad, her only relief coming when he had grabbed her behind and pressed her body against him. She remembered the way his muscles tensed and tightened as she grinded against his abdomen, the contact sending electric shocks of arousal from the tips of her ears to her toes.  
A throbbing ache between her legs brought Aaiva back to the present. Shaking her head, she cleared her thoughts away from her reminiscing; she had plenty of other things to think about, like how to not fall on her ass next time she trained with the Commander. Drowsily, she rubbed some soap over her body, enthralled by the way it lathered up on her skin. Using long, languid strokes, she covered her arms with suds, enjoying the cool, tickling sensation before slowly rising up to her shoulders and neck.  
As she washed, she passed a stray finger over the hollow created by her collarbone, sending a small chill up her spine even through the immense heat of the bath. Interested in her body’s reaction, she repeated the motion, dragging the tip of her finger from the base of her neck to her shoulder, making hot blooms of sensation dance from her fingertips to her core. Slowly, she copied the lines that Solas himself had traced just hours ago, the sensation making her back arch from the pleasure. She watched, fascinated, as her nipples hardened in response, and the memory of Solas’ lips on hers returned, clouding her senses with desire. Tentatively, she reached for her breasts, rubbing soap over the soft curves. Curious, she explored, gasping as her hand made contact with her nipple. She began to tease herself, flicking and pinching the hardened buds. Her belly clenched in a delicious spasm of arousal, and her legs squeezed together automatically, trying their best to satisfy the ache that was building inside of her.  
Writhing futily in the hot water, she continued to massage her breasts, her nipples now almost painfully erect. Though the sensation was pleasing, it did nothing to alleviate the desire that was growing within her, and only made the spot between her legs even more slick with want. With a fretful moan, Aaiva splashed the surface of the bath, making water drip onto the stone floor. Quickly rinsing herself of all the leftover soap, she rose from the water and dried herself, plopping down onto the too-soft mattress of her bed. Eventually, she fell into a fitful sleep, images of his lips skimming over every inch of her manifesting in her dreams, and leaving her feeling even more frustrated than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always encourage constructive criticism/comments on my work! I love to hear what you think and what I can do better.
> 
> Also, feel free to check out my TUMBLR, where you can find this story and more.
> 
> http://superb-mediocrity.tumblr.com/


	8. Only For Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Solas finally returns from the Exalted Plains after witnessing the corruption and death of his friend, Wisdom, he is welcomed back by the Inquisitor. He then discovers the real reason why he returned, and makes a very important decision regarding the future of their relationship.

She was the most beautiful sight in the world, Solas thought, and he couldn’t help the joy that caught in his throat and pricked at his eyes as Aaiva sprinted down the courtyard stairs. Her hair was in complete disarray; a curly, tangled mess that whipped behind her as she ran. She came to an awkward stop in front of him, tripping over her own feet and falling forward. His heart fluttered in panic, instinct forcing his hands out to grab her. He barely caught her as she fumbled, protectively pulling her into his arms to save her from the ground. She leaned into his chest and looked up, her eyes large and searching, and Solas felt much of his fear and grief abate; dissipating as he basked in the comforting amber glow of her gaze. It had been centuries since anyone had made him feel this way; safe and warm and wanted. 

Clearing her throat, she righted herself, doing her best to smooth the clinging white garment that she wore. Solas was shocked to notice that the sun rendered the dress almost entirely transparent, the sheer material doing little to hide the curves of her body. Looking down, he noticed the small, dark peaks of her nipples, so temptingly erect and straining against the thin fabric. He lowered his eyes in embarrassment, only to be distracted again by the slight dip of her navel; cast in shadow by that perfect expanse of golden skin. Dazed, he watched her belly rise and fall as she breathed, and he imagined his hands caressing her, eventually sliding down, down, down to a place that would leave her trembling and aching with want.

A murmur of voices in the yard caught his attention, and he marveled at seeing her ears set ablaze in an astonishingly beautiful crimson blush. Tugging the hooded cape from his shoulders, he wrapped it quickly around her, not failing to notice how the color complemented the dark, messy tresses that fell down her back. His heart warmed to see the look of relief on her face; the deep red in her ears slowly fading away.

“You came back…” she whispered, adding hastily “…I mean…thank you…”

Her voice was breathy, soft, and tinged with something akin to relief. The delicate sound rendered him unable to respond for a moment, and he was left to wrestle his mangled thoughts into something comprehensible. For all his effort, her statement buzzed in his head, colliding with the delectable image of her body bathed in the light of the blazing sun.

Yes. He had come back; a fact that had, until this moment, puzzled him immensely. It would have been… _less complicated_ , to say the least, if he had just left. She would have room to focus on the inquisition, and he would have distance from the one thing that actually threatened his plan...but to really leave her now?

His stomach twisted, and a pressing fear he hadn’t experienced for over a millennia left him feeling weak and trembling. She had done something to him, this delightfully fragile creature; something that rendered him malleable as clay in her delicate hands. But even for the terror he felt—the vulnerability—he knew he wanted this; to see her happy. He wanted to please her, to keep her safe. He wanted…

Shaking the thought from his head, Solas fabricated a suitable response quickly, doing his best to mask the confusion that he felt, but the mage spoke haltingly, his voice strained, and he hoped desperately that she wouldn’t catch the false notes.

“Yes. You were a… _true friend_. You did everything you could to help. I could hardly abandon you now.”

No. It was more than that. She had to know it was more than that! He had returned for her, couldn’t she see? The voice was screaming in his head, begging him to admit his feelings, to finally say those fateful words…but he needed more time…he needed to think. Looking down, he waited for her response; doing his best to gather himself before he lost his nerve and confessed everything. 

Aaiva only smiled at him, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes. She had been worried; Solas could see that plainly—so worried that the mere sight of him returning to Skyhold prompted her to sprint from her chambers dressed in nothing but her underthings. His pounding heart ate away at the edges of his resolve. How did this girl have such a hold on him? 

He watched helplessly as she wrapped her hand hands around his own, enveloping him with her warmth.

“Next time you have to mourn, you don’t need to do it alone.”

_Oh…_

Memories of his spirit friend flooded his mind at the words; recollections of a time long ago when magic was like breathing and he and Wisdom had been steadfast allies. It seemed so far away, and he soon become lost in his fantasy; beginning to drown again in grief and becoming completely oblivious to the world around him. 

The soft pressure of her thumb running across the back of his hand brought him to the present. _Ugh_ , he could feel them coming; tears of grief accentuated by a pounding ache in his chest. He needed to concentrate—to focus only on her and this moment, or he would be lost forever. Looking down, Solas closed his eyes and cleared his head, thinking of the electric feel of her skin against his. Yes, she is real...she is now, and he must learn to accept this outcome, to endure the consequences of this world.

When he looked up again, his eyes had lightened to their usual greyish blue, the grief pushed away. His mind was now clear, and his heart felt lighter than it had in a long time. He was done thinking; done planning. Slowly, he brought his hands up to caress her face, running his thumbs over the faint lines of the vallaslin under her eyes. Aaiva grinned in response, her lips parting to show the dazzling white of her teeth. Delighted by her reaction, Solas smiled too, his decision finally made. 

Yes, this is why he had come back. He had returned for this; for her. 

Only for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/constructive criticism both welcomed and encouraged. I like to hear what i am doing right/wrong and what you guys like to read!
> 
> Also, feel free to follow me on Tumblr so you can check out this story and other stuff!
> 
> http://superb-mediocrity.tumblr.com/


	9. Only For Her pt. 2: The Balcony Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BALCONY KISS, YAY! We have finally arrived to that anticipated moment in which Solas gives up trying to push the Inquisitor away. In this we get a little taste of the Inquisitors past with/opinions of the Dalish and Clan Lavellan. This is part 2 of "Only For Her", and takes place immediately after the quest "All New Faded For Her" in the game. 
> 
> Side Note: this was written as a response to a prompt in which I had to include the giving of a gift! You can check out the prompt on my TUMBLR, if you feel so inclined.   
> \--J  
> <3

The walk to Aaiva’s chambers was a quiet one, punctuated only by the soft padding of her feet on the red, stone floor and the frantic beating of her heart. Solas had suggested they speak in private, and never before had she felt so nervous. Running to him half-naked in the courtyard hadn’t been her original plan of welcoming him back, and she felt herself blush in embarrassment at her own stupidity. Was he disappointed with her? Ashamed by her display in front of those people? 

Anxiously, the girl scratched at her cuticles; a nervous habit from her childhood that she had never been able to rid herself of. For some reason, she felt on edge, hyper-aware of the warmth radiating off of his body as he walked silently beside her—the stray edge of his sleeve tickling the skin of her arm as the intoxicating scent of rain soaked earth emanated from the heavy cloak around her shoulders. 

Upon their arrival to her quarters, she walked ahead, turning to mutter something about putting on some decent clothes. Once to her dresser, she pulled on her favorite dress and called out for Solas to enter, doing her best in the meanwhile to quickly tidy up all of the scattered papers and dirty clothing that littered the large space. In her hurry, she grazed against the edge of her desk, knocking a wooden figurine to the ground. Picking it up, Aaiva felt her ears go red. She had all but forgotten about the little trinket. 

The project had begun as an attempt to alleviate her boredom between missions, but as she had carved the little wooden block, it had become something else entirely. It grew to have a purpose, gaining form as her relationship with the mage developed. By the time it was finished, she knew that she had wanted to give it to Solas, however poorly made it was, but had been unable to do so during his absence.

The hard sound of her chamber door closing alerted Aaiva to Solas’ presence. Spinning around to face him as he walked towards her, she clenched the figurine tightly in her hand, rubbing the smooth, sanded wood as she tried to decide how to go about giving it to him. Swallowing the nervous fear that clawed up her throat, Aaiva squared her shoulders and flashed her prettiest smile, doing her best to exude her normal airy confidence.

“I uh…made this for you while you were away. Blackwall showed me. I know it’s horrible…”

She bit her lip to stifle a nervous laugh, her hand worrying the edges of the dress she wore. 

He smiled broadly as she presented the gift, his eyes brightening as he took it from her. He didn’t speak as he examined it, but chuckled softly, his nose wrinkling as he laughed. Aaiva felt her own smile tugging at the corners of her mouth; it really was an awful little thing. She watched amusedly as Solas continued inspecting it, covering the lower part of her face to keep from laughing outright.

Cradling it carefully in his hands, he held it to his chest for a moment before meeting her gaze again. Flustered by his reaction, Aaiva spoke up once more, nerves making her words come out in a barely coherent rush. 

“It’s a wolf…well, originally it was a halla, but I made the horns too small, and since you wear that necklace…I thought you—”

Solas cut her off, grabbing her hand and squeezing it gently.

“It is wonderful, da’len.”

He gazed at her for a moment, a deep appreciation evident in his eyes, and Aaiva felt a sudden warmth blossom at his expression. 

Looking away suddenly, he spoke, his tone earnest and inquiring.

“What were you like? Before the Anchor, I mean?”

The question was abrupt and caught Aaiva off guard. What was she like? Confused, she let her hand drop from his and gazed at the electric green pulse of the mark on her palm. She attempted to think of her personality, of her life before the breach, but before she could think of an answer, Solas spoke up again.

“Has it affected you? Changed you in any way? Your mind, your morals, your…spirit?”

Her spirit? Perplexed by his prodding, Aaiva answered as honestly as she could.

“I…don’t believe so…”

“Ah.”

Was that it? ‘Ah’? His eyes had turned cloudy, his expression darkening to become pensive and brooding. 

“Why do you ask…?” Aaiva pushed back at his vague response, frustrated by his sudden inability to speak in whole sentences. 

Solas bit his lip before answering as though to hold back the flux of words that left his mouth. His brows furrowed into a hard, rigid line, and his voice seemed to stumble over them as though they took him great effort to express. 

“You show a wisdom I have not seen since…my deepest journeys into the ancient memories of the fade. You are not what I expected…”

Not what he expected? What did he mean? What had he expected? Aaiva felt slightly confused and insulted by his declaration; icy bursts of embarrassment trickling from the back of her neck and to the tips of her fingers. The girl let her head drop down in frustrated bewilderment. 

“Sorry to disappoint.” 

Her voice was low, barely above a whisper, and Solas’ expression seemed to darken even more at her response. Gently lifting her chin, he tilted her head up so she would look at him, an apologetic smile flitting across his face. The mage sighed as he tried to explain his meaning a different way, his hand slowly falling to rest by his side.

“It’s not disappointing, it’s…most people are predictable. You have shown subtlety in your actions. A wisdom that goes against everything I expected. If the dalish could raise someone with a spirit like yours…have I misjudged them?”

Misjudge the Dalish? A flood of memories manifested then. Recollections of hunger, of fear, of empty woods and frightened voices in the dark. Aaiva answered him quickly, attempting to divert her thoughts away from the harrowing images that flashed through her mind.

“The dalish didn’t make me like this. The experiences…the choices were mine.”

She sounded petulant and stubborn, and she knew that he had no idea what she was referring to, but Solas seemed to light up at her response as though it were exactly what he had wanted to hear.

“Yes! You are wise to give yourself that due. Although the Dalish, in their fashion, may still have guided you? Perhaps that is it. I suppose it must be. Some people act with so little understanding of the world, but not you.”

She supposed he was technically correct. The Dalish could have influenced her in some ways; that is, if exiling a child to find her way in the forest alone can be considered “guiding”. She tried to imagine herself the way he described her, as some sort of sage, enlightened leader, but found it entirely impossible. A childhood of running and fear had made her bitter and distrustful. But then she thought of Taloain, of Clan Lavellan, and the acceptance she had found with them. Had that influenced her? Furrowing her brows, she searched deep within herself for the answer, but to no avail. Blocking the clash of thoughts from expanding any further in her mind, she prompted Solas again. 

“So what does this mean Solas?”

Stepping forward so that he was almost touching her, Solas took both of Aaiva’s hands in his as he responded.

“It means…I haven’t forgotten the kiss.”

Her attempt at self-reflection was forgotten as excitement fluttered in her belly. Biting down on her lip, she had to fight from succumbing to the fiery-hot blush that threatened to overtake her. She tried to think of something to say; something witty or smart, but all she could manage was a breathy “…good…” as he moved to stand even closer to her. 

Reaching a hand out, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear; the feeling of his fingers brushing against her skin sending goosebumps parading down her arms and legs. Shaking his head, he turned leave, but Aaiva panicked; grabbing him by the sleeve of his shirt.

“Don’t go…”

Her voice was small and pleading, and Solas stopped, still facing the door.

“It would be kinder in the long run, but losing you would…”

Turning swiftly, he grabbed Aaiva by the waist, pulling her in towards him and pressing his mouth firmly onto hers. He kissed her hard and deep, surprising Aaiva with his ferocity, and leaving her breathless. Noticing her reaction, he slowed his pace, nipping and sucking on her bottom lip for a moment before making his way to her neck. 

Sliding a hand up her back, he grabbed a fistful of her hair, using it to carefully angle her head so he had better access to her throat. Once there, he planted a series of wet kisses that trailed down to her collarbone, making her shiver and press herself closer into his abdomen. Groaning softly against her neck at the contact, Solas followed the trail he had made back up, stopping at the hollow just under her ear. Taking the sensitive skin between his teeth, he sucked gently while massaging the area with his tongue. 

Aaiva gasped at the sensation, electric shocks of arousal shooting through her limbs. She cried out as he did it again, and pressed herself even more firmly against him, draping her arms over his shoulders and around his neck. 

Scraping his teeth lightly over her skin, he moved slowly down towards her shoulder, stopping suddenly and resting his forehead against it when the fabric of her dress got in his way. In that moment, Aaiva wanted nothing more than to tug her dress down, rip the sleeve away, anything to let him continue his tortuous assault, but he stayed still. She pressed herself against him, indicating that he should resume his ministrations, but he shook his head, and Aaiva whined softly in his ear as the throbbing ache in her core intensified.

Aaiva could feel him smiling at her frustration, a soft chuckle tickling her sensitized skin. Grinding herself hard against him, she bit his earlobe gently, silently begging for him to continue. He shook his head again, his voice barely a whisper as he murmured against the side of her neck.

“Ar lath ma vhenan.”

Aaiva felt her heart stop momentarily in her chest. Prying herself away, she looked at the man who had just pledged his love to her, the ache between her legs forgotten for the moment as his words echoed in her mind. Slowly, he lifted his head, gazing at her with such obvious adoration that she was taken aback. Tucking another strand of hair behind her ear, he turned again to leave. She would have stopped him, but his revelation left her immobile. As he walked out the door, she saw him turn back towards her and smile.

“Thank you for the gift, vhenan.”

“You’re welcome,” she whispered as he closed the door softly behind him, leaving her alone in her quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always encourage constructive criticism/comments on my work! I love to hear what you think and what I can do better.
> 
> Also, feel free to check out my TUMBLR, where you can find this story and more.
> 
> http://superb-mediocrity.tumblr.com/
> 
> <3


	10. A Frightened Kiss *Solavellan Fluff*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas and the Inquisitor end up sharing a tent when Aaiva gets frightened by a storm. This can also be found in my Solavellan Drabble/Fluff/Angst pieces folder if you want to read more stuff like this :)  
> I hope you enjoy <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE comments/constructive criticism :) Also, feel free to check out my TUMBLR for more stuff like this :)
> 
> http://superb-mediocrity.tumblr.com/
> 
> This post was a response to a prompt. More prompts can be found on my Tumblr as well.

A ground-shaking blast of thunder awoke Aaiva suddenly from her dreams. Startled by the noise, her eyes flew open just as a bolt of lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating the heavens in such a way that it was visible even through the thick fabric of her tent. Pulling the blanket over her head, the girl curled up into herself, attempting to become as small as possible. Her heart thudded in time with the earth as another bout of thunder rolled through, its steady roar seeming to settle right in the pit of her stomach.

Aaiva whimpered as another blast of lightning lit up the tent, the electric glow creating distorted shadows that seemed grotesque and menacing in the heavy dark of the forest. Thunder clapped again, and Aaiva shot straight up, racing out into the storm without thinking. Icy pellets of rain stung her skin as she darted through the trees, the sight of her own elongated shadow chasing after her spurring her to quicken her pace as lighting flashed overhead. She could feel the effects of adrenaline coursing through her veins as she ran, heightening her sense of fear and the threat of danger. 

Upon entering Solas’ tent, she could feel the sharp edges of her anxiety wear away, muffled by the soothing sound of Solas’ soft breathing as he slept. Aaiva watched him for a moment, amazed by his ability to sleep through the storm outside. Kneeling beside him, she removed her sopping wet shift and threw it off to the side. Clad only in her smallclothes, she crawled under the unused edge of his blanket, carefully scooting as close to him as possible without touching him with her cold, wet skin. She sighed contentedly as she began to warm up, the heat from his body soothing the hurts caused by the icy rain. 

As safe as she felt with Solas by her side, Aaiva couldn’t help but whimper as the storm continued to rage on, her body gradually coming to rest closer to Solas’ as she lay next to him in the dark. An earsplitting howl of thunder made her cry out, her hands rushing to cover her mouth in an attempt to stifle the noise. 

Suddenly, she was moving; her body being gathered and turned so that she lay on her side. A pair of arms shot out, one reaching under her head and the other coming to rest over her, holding her tightly and pulling her against him so that her back was pressed against the solid warmth of his bare chest. Completely trapped in his embrace, Aaiva let her hands fall away from her face, adjusting so that their fingers were intertwined.

Aaiva tensed as light filled the tent, and Solas pulled her closer to him. Nuzzling into her neck, he whispered “Do not be afraid, vhenan”, but the girl cringed as a blast of thunder drowned out his words. Aaiva heard him chuckle softly, but any injustice she felt was soon forgotten as he planted a series of kisses from right below her ear to the base of her neck. 

“Ar lath ma vhenan. Now go to sleep”

Aaiva wanted to tell them that was impossible; that there was no way she could sleep with the storm like this, but then he began to sing softly in her ear. The girl quieted; the tune seemed familiar, though the words passed like clouds over her, their true meaning far out of her reach. She began to feel drowsy as she listened, the crashing of thunder doing little to bother her as his song filled her head. Relaxing against him, she closed her eyes; the delicate lilt of his voice growing softer and softer as she fell asleep.


	11. Let's Go On A Fade Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaiva wakes up to find and empty camp, and a really happy Solas. This is some cutesy, fade-date Solavellan fluff. Slight NSFW undertones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY I'VE BEEN GONE SO LONG DEARIES! Thank you for sticking with me, I hope you like the chapter. I made it slightly longer than usual to make up for my long absence. Forgive me, loves, and PLEASE comment / kudos. I love to know how I'm doing!   
> Also feel free to follow me on TUMBLR!
> 
> http://superb-mediocrity.tumblr.com/

Aaiva awoke to soft touches caressing the length of her arm. The sensation was pleasing, and it caused a low hum of approval to escape as she gradually awoke; breaking the silent calm of morning that hung over camp. Even as she wriggled from their attention, however, the fingers never stopped their travels, continuing to peruse her exposed flesh until Aaiva fell asleep once more. 

When she opened her eyes again, Aaiva was horrified to see the bright glare of the sun burning through the maroon fabric of Solas’ tent—indicating its recent rise to the middle of the sky. She felt a panic begin to claw at her, and she could almost hear Cassandra scolding her for her tardiness. As she reached beside the bedroll her for her crumpled pile of clothing, her hand brushed a knotted ring of flowers that had been carefully laid over the heap. Smiling, she placed the arrangement on her head. It smelled wonderful—like rainwater and earth—and the petals were so soft against her skin.

A momentary burst of bravery pushed Aaiva to walk out into the fiery light of midday—and she girded herself for what would undoubtedly be a barrage of quips meant to embarrass her regarding her overnight stay in Solas’ tent. She had her excuse planned before she had finished tying her breeches; _she had been afraid of the storm_ , she would tell them, _and she had fallen asleep, accidentally of course, while they were talking about…something._ And the flowers? _Oh, of course, the flowers are some that she had picked and thought were pretty…Dalish customs and other such nonsense_ —

 _A perfect excuse_ , Aaiva nodded, attempting to instill within herself the same mock bravery she had watched her best friend, Taloain, emulate a thousand times before when she still lived with the Lavellan clan.

Yep, it was foolproof; not even the slightest bit arguable.

As soon as she emerged from tent, ready to face all of her companions’ smug faces, Aaiva was astounded to find nothing around; only the remains of an empty camp— _creators, where had everyone gone?_

The absence of her entire party was curious; they never had left her at camp completely alone before. Were they angry with her? Everyone had seemed normal enough the previous night—happy even, as they all laughed at Varric’s jokes and chided Cassandra’s sour faces. Wandering along the forest edge that skirted the camp, Aaiva searched for any signs of her missing friends, but found nothing to signal their ever having been there—all that remained were the empty tents that shuffled in the breeze. 

“Good morning, Inquisitor.”

Aaiva whipped around to meet the speaker and came to face a very smug looking Solas, who stood beneath a particularly shadowy fringe of forest. He shot her a beaming smile, and Aaiva felt as if the entire world grew warmer and brighter as he did until he seemed to glow in the soft light he himself had created.

Coming to stand directly in front of the girl, Solas reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. 

“I see you got my flowers.”

Aaiva turned her head as she began to blush; attempting to brush off the warmth that flooded her face at his observation. She quickly decided to change the subject, fixating instead on his greeting.

“Uhm—“, she cleared her throat, “—is it morning?” she looked towards the sky, searching for the location of sun but unable find the source of the bright light that bathed them.

Solas smiled. “Does it really matter?” 

_Well, well._ Aaiva gaped at the elf, caught between shock and joy for his teasing and easy confidence. “I suppose not…though isn’t it strange to you that the entire camp is gone? Where is everyone?” 

She gestured dramatically towards the empty tents, and was answered by a barking laugh. “Off having their own adventures, I imagine.”

 _Ah._ She smiled as the realization slowly dawned on her, and immediately thereafter rushed towards the empty camp. Reaching a hand out, she felt the fabric of her tent, letting it slide between her fingers as another bout of wind caught its edges and lifted them in the breeze. She was shocked at how realistic it was to her—at how abnormally, freakishly present she felt in this strange place. 

“Can you show me?” Her voice dripped with incredulity—her smile caught between amazement and complete disbelief.

“Ma nuvenin, vhenan.” 

She was suddenly blind as cool hand pressed against her face, blocking her view of Solas’ creation.

Aaiva wrapped her fingers around his wrist and tried to pull away the hand that sheltered her view, but was unable to escape in time to see the world around them shatter, and then reassemble once more into something even more beautiful. 

_Woah._

A blanket of stars covered them both, and Aaiva marveled at the lovely diamond flecks that set the world around them aglow with silver light, their influence broken only by the jagged forest edge that tickled the sky above. Aaiva’s breath caught in her chest as a humming breeze coursed through her head, making her feel giddy and restless. Solas must have felt the same, because a mischievous glint sparked in his eye as he wrapped Aaiva’s small hand in his own. 

His advance made Aaiva smile, but embarrassment at her own excitement forced her to turn back towards the landscape that filled the horizon. The steady slap of water caught her attention then, and looking down, she was shocked to find herself at the edge of a large lake, the rippling waves reflecting the mural of lights that danced above with magnificent clarity. 

Aaiva bent and placed a hesitant finger into the pool, delighted to feel the cool slip of water sliding over her skin. Turning the face Solas, she grinned; impressed by the level of detail he presented her in this fantasy. A sudden impulsivity drove Aaiva to get undressed, and she threw her clothing in a playful heap at Solas’ feet, followed by her flower crown, which she placed neatly on top. Following her cue, Solas also tugged the edge of his own shirt over his head and threw it to the ground; climbing in after the bright eyed girl.

Together they eased into the cold darkness of the lake, the ribbons of speckled water enveloping them completely. Aaiva delighted in the floating sensation, and gasped as she attempted to propel herself through the swirling liquid that tugged and clung to her naked skin.

Once she had reached what she assumed to be the approximate center of the lake, she became still, letting herself fall into the inky depths. She opened her eyes after several moments, just as soon as she felt her foot scrape against the sandy bottom. Everything around her shimmered with an obsidian sheen, the artificial moonlight peeking through the murky abyss and setting everything aglow with its cold shine. 

Aaiva felt a soft nudge on her thigh. Turning, she found her companion, his blue eyes shining like beacons as he gestured towards something above her. The girl was shocked by his rapid appearance; _fenedhis, was he fast!_ As she glanced in the direction he pointed out, Aaiva let out a silent scream of bubbles that toppled uselessly to the surface as she simultaneously kicked through the water in an attempt to escape the horror that threatened her. As she panicked, the elf beside her just shook in mute laughter as his cries were drowned by the murky waves. 

Just to her right, a silver dash of scales flashed by, revealing the wriggling form of a giant fish perhaps two or three times larger than Aaiva, herself. For a moment, the girl was afraid that the pair had somehow stumbled upon the lair of some sort of strange, water-breathing fade dragon, but her worry quickly turned into astonishment as she watched Solas swim right up to the creature, and touch a gleaming scale with his palm. The animal barely acknowledged his presence, however, instead focusing on the writhing glimmers of light that danced off of the shimmering body of another leviathan—its partner Aaiva surmised—as they danced in the shivering moonlight that cut through the depths. 

Inspired by Solas’ confidence, Aaiva swam over to where her companion hovered, reaching out a tentative hand to match the one Solas had placed on the beast’s scaly flank. Noting her hesitation, Solas rolled his eyes and laughed once more—signaled by the explosion of bubbles that burst from his mouth and nose—and reached for her hand. Once he was able to grab her, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and tugged so that her palm rested upon the creature’s bright scales. Aaiva was shocked at how cold it felt on her skin, colder even than the dark tendrils of magic that currently held them within its icy depths.

Aaiva grinned with childish delight as the thing wriggled beneath her touch, eventually leaving her and her companion alone in order to chase after his partner who had just disappeared into the darkness. Alone with Solas, Aaiva turned, attempting to find some way to express the bubbling excitement that was coursing through her. Grabbing the elf by the shoulders, Aaiva pressed herself against him, attempting to somehow transfer all of her emotions so that he could feel what she couldn’t adequately express. After a moment, they separated, and Solas just looked at her with a knowing gleam in his eye. Aaiva let her hands fall to his bare chest, and wondered briefly if any of what she was feeling in this dream world was real. Was it actually his heart that thudded beneath her palm? Was it truly his skin that left her own burning? 

In that moment, Aaiva wanted nothing more than to be awake, to actually hear the steady rhythm of his heart and to really feel the burning heat of his touch. A thrumming pleasure lanced from her core as she caressed Solas’ bare chest, her hands slowly sliding lower towards his stomach. He tensed as she fingered the lining of his smallclothes, and in turn Aaiva bit her lip hard enough to make herself wince.

Meeting his gaze, they regarded each other for another moment; each staring at the shimmering form of other as the moonlight danced over their exposed skin. A furious urge to smash her lips against his threatened to overtake her, and she attempted to smother the instinct, hanging her head low and letting her hand fall away.

When she had recovered herself enough to look back at him, her eyes shimmered with an unspoken plea.

 _Please_ , they seemed to say. 

How could he refuse?

Able to sense her desperation, Solas’ own gaze darkened with desire, and he pressed his lips against the girl’s forehead, whispering something unintelligible that sent Aaiva whirling back into consciousness.


	12. A First Time For Everything *NSFW*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This immediately follows Solas and Aaiva's shared experience in the fade from the previous chapter, and we see what happens with the couple upon waking up!
> 
> *SUPER NSFW*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments / kudos, I love to know how I am doing!
> 
> Feel free to follow me on TUMBLR as well: http://superb-mediocrity.tumblr.com/

“Solas!”

_He wouldn’t stop…He wouldn’t stop!_

Aaiva clawed at her assailants back, not pausing when she felt the pull of bare skin against her nails. Her thighs pressed together, and she called out once more to him, desperate for something, anything, to buy her some time, to stop this assault before she…she…

The words wouldn’t come to her—she had no frame of reference from which to name the impending explosion that currently clawed at her insides and threatened to consume her totally. Suddenly aware of her own lack of control, Aaiva reached out, pulling Solas’ face upwards to meet her gaze. His eyes were misty, passion clouding them and turning them a deep stormy gray that made her insides tighten. She frowned at the sudden absence of touch, and then moaned as he took one of her nipples between his teeth and tugged sharply. He smiled at the way she struggled beneath him, and he let her writhe in futile frustration a while as he licked his lips clean from her wetness.

“Solas, wha—“Aaiva whimpered as he captured her wrist in his hand and brought her fingers to his lips; eagerly sucking on the tips. The warm heat from his mouth caused her body to tilt upward in a wild arch, desperate for anything to satisfy the throbbing pulse between her legs. 

He adjusted his position so that he came to lay behind her, and eased an arm underneath her head to support both his and her weight as he shifted to his side. Once he was comfortable, he set her fingers free with a gruff, throaty chuckle, and grabbed her waist instead; pulling her hips so that she fell flush against his own. Leaning down, he quickly nuzzled the skin directly below her right ear before taking the vulnerable lobe into his mouth. As he sucked, Aaiva became increasingly aware of the chill of her fingers, still wet from his kisses, as they were guided over the curve of her breasts and down the bare expanse of her stomach; coming to rest at the entrance of her sex.

Unsure of his intentions, she turned to study the man behind of her, attempting to read the foggy opacity of his gaze as he led her hand through the slick wetness and into the throbbing heat within her. Aaiva gasped at the sensation, and allowed her eyes to fall shut. She could feel her pleasure gently pulsing around her fingers, each beat signaling the steady culmination of that indescribable tension that he had tortured her with just moments before. 

Controlling her hand, he pressed it against her sex, using his own to increase the pressure on her clitoris as he lead her in a series of gentle rolling motions that seemed to hit every center of pleasure that Aaiva could imagine. Soon, she began to moan again—short little bursts of sound that seemed so foreign to her ears— and Solas accompanied her soft cries with his own lilted encouragement. 

As she began to tremble and whimper with more abandon, Solas was forced to shush her exclamations, placing a ready palm against her mouth to stifle the sound. Murmuring sweetly in her ear, he gradually eased the pressure of his hand, eventually coming to a stop that left Aaiva shaking with unspent passion. Rapidly changing targets, he wrapped his arms around her waist and moved to place his mouth once more on her breast; kissing and nipping at the sensitive flesh until she was begging for his mercy. 

“P..please, vhenan.” 

Solas stopped his ministrations immediately, concern marring the glorious passion that lit his face. Lifting his mouth from her breast, he reached to caress her cheek. “Yes, Aaiva?“  
_No! Fuck!_ Aaiva huffed at the loss of sensation. Why did he stop? Her breath was coming now in short, shaky drags that reflected the hollow buzzing in her ears, and she groaned as her legs pressed together, so pathetically desperate to continue Solas’ merciless conquest of her body.

In her madness, Aaiva reached out for him, only managing to gain purchase onto the tip of his right ear. She gently tugged at the soft point in an attempt to guide his mouth back to her aching breasts; her wild scramble for completion warranting a husky laugh from the elf. _She was a demanding little thing,_ and the knowledge made him grin with unwarranted satisfaction as he flicked her nipple with his thumb.

“Solas!” She groaned at his teasing, and her annoyance was quickly doubled as her stomach clenched in desire. Aaiva growled in frustration; she needed him to continue, to show her what lay at the end of all his torturous attentions, or she feared she may explode from the agony of it all. 

Although she knew it was hopeless, she pressed her legs together once more, her torment evident on her face. “Please…Solas…”

She leaned upward so that her forehead pressed against his, attempting to communicate her desire to him. “Please, I want …I have to…I need…” But she didn't know what to say, or how to convince him to relieve her of that torturous pleasure.

When he didn’t respond within a few seconds, she whimpered, pressing her backside against the stiff outline of his member. She smiled at his sharp intake of breath, and repeated the motion, encouraged by the rigid heat that strained against his smallclothes. 

He held her against his chest as he began to return the contact, pressing himself firmly against her as he slid a skilled hand down to her sex. 

“What do you _want_ , my heart?”

Aaiva gasped. Without any sort of preamble, he inserted a finger into her wet heat, and watched as she rolled her hips against him in time to the finger that danced inside of her.

“What is it, vhenan? What do you _need,_ hm?" He added a second finger to his arsenal, pumping harder as she stifled a heaving groan.

"Tell me, my love, _what. must. you. do?_ Solas slowed, allowing his fingers to deftly punctuate the space between each word before stopping completely once he felt her begin to tighten around his hand. 

Aaiva responded with babbling nonsense; the girl already starting to come undone as the tension in her body escalated. Noticing her impending climax, Solas removed his hand from her depths and placed himself over top of the girl; beginning the delicious journey down to her core with deliberate slowness, and leaving a wet trail of kisses that completely covered the naked expanse of her trembling belly. After easing himself between her legs, he placed two light pecks on her inner thighs, and lifted them so that they rested on his shoulders. Before he allowed her the satisfaction of his touch, however, he blew a cold stream of air at the center of her being, and Aaiva had to bite her lip to stifle the cry that rose to her throat.

She watched transfixed as Solas slid his right hand up to cup her breast, letting the other grip the area just behind her knee. Then, with only a crooked smirk as warning, he began devouring her, sucking and massaging the small bundle of nerves at her center with the slick heat of his tongue. He carried on in this way without leniency; and Aaiva could barely stand the intensity of the sensation. 

Solas refused to falter this time as she whimpered his name; begging him for mercy as he forced a stream of incoherent speech from her quivering throat. Neither did he cease his attentions when she began to mewl and claw at him again in futile desperation, leaving bright, angry marks that stung Solas’ skin and made his cock twitch with furious desire. Nor did he slow his tongue’s rapid pace even as she called out to the creators with a strangled cry, the world behind her eyes beginning to tilt and shimmer in time to the pulsating pleasure that he elicited from her. The intensity of her passion made her lose all sense of everything for a moment, and she remained unaware of herself even as he clamped his hand over her gaping mouth.

“Solas, are you in there?” Cassandra’s voice cut through the heady haze of Aaiva’s pleasure, but the girl was unable to stop the rolling waves of sensation that crashed down upon her, leaving her forced to writhe mutely beneath Solas as he answered their interrupter.

“Yes, Cassandra!” His response was curt, aggravation tainting the edges of his voice. 

“Come now, it’s nearly noon. We must be going!” 

Aaiva’s eyes fluttered as she began to come down from her climax, her hips rolling to the echo of Solas’ ministrations. 

Solas didn’t answer Cassandra, choosing instead to partake in a moment of silent adoration for the sweaty, wriggling woman that beamed at him from behind the hand that was still barred over her mouth. 

Varric’s throaty chuckle soon became audible, and Solas groaned at the intrusion.

“Hey! You wouldn’t happen to know where the Inquisitor is, would you Chuckles? She hasn’t been around all morn—“

“Varric!” There was a thump and a soft murmur of voices as Cassandra scolded the dwarf. 

“Get up, Solas! Inquisitor! Varric and I are going to ready the horses.” The couple regarded each other silently as their companions stomped away, and Solas rolled his eyes and sighed; making a point of biting Aaiva’s inner thigh as he rose to ready himself for departure. The girl hissed through bared teeth and grabbed her naked breasts in response to his touch, pulling and teasing her nipples the same way Solas had done earlier, but her invitation was grudgingly rejected as the mage planted a series of chaste kisses from her belly to her neck, ending with a final peck on her forehead before he rose to his feet. 

Moments later, Aaiva and Solas were both tugging on the remaining articles of clothing that had littered the tent. Aaiva was quiet, reliving the morning’s events with numb fascination. Racing through her head were so many questions: _What had all of that been? What was that explosion of feeling that still tickled her skin?_ She thought that she knew sex, or at least understood the mechanics of it, but that was something different…something else…something more. _Was it possible to have sex without having sex?_ It sure seemed seemed like it was. _Was everything she thought she knew about her own body wrong?_

Hiding behind a sheltering tumble of curls, Aaiva attempted to conceal the deep scarlet that stained everything from her cheeks to her ears as she exited the tent with Solas, and marched over towards their impatient companions.


	13. Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is part 1 of my interpretation of the quest "Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts"--BASICALLY just a nice, fluffy -I love you- moment between Solas and the Inquisitor at the Winter Palace.
> 
> This chapter is from Solas' P.O.V.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the NEW part 1, the old part 1 is now part 2. I did things a bit out of order :p
> 
> I love comments/kudos, and feel free to follow me on TUMBLR!

Aaiva’s cheeks were flushed; rosy from exertion and wine. She laughed in breathless delight as Solas spun her in time to some foreign melody. Her bare feet glided over the stony floor as she danced, carrying all of the weight of her slight figure with such effortless ease that she appeared to float above the ground.

The sheer edges of her dress billowed around her, catching in the moonlight and returning its silvery embrace with its own dazzling shine. Clearly feeling the effects of the wine, Aaiva crashed into him with a huff, and the couple stumbled a few steps before smacking sloppily against the ivy-draped wall. Sliding down the cool stone, they fell into a tangled heap. The tinkle of passing conversation forced them to stifle their fun, however; the pair wary of any unwanted eyes that could accidentally spy the Inquisitor and her “manservant” misbehaving. He laughed inwardly upon remembering the irony of his title, not perturbed by the barb in the slightest. 

Reflecting on the events thus far, Solas was pleased by how well everything was proceeding. Aaiva had performed her part perfectly, having spent the majority of the night in a perpetual state of coquettish abandon designed to beguile the suspicious nobles of their secrets. She, of course, was an enormous success; everything about her—from the daisies peppering her hair to her naked feet— was working to reinforce the fantasy of barbaric exoticism that she had created so diligently for the oblivious Orlesian elite. With her gauzy costume and painted eyes, the girl had taken the Palace by storm, delighting everyone, especially Solas, in the process. 

He allowed his head to hang so that it rested against hers. Their skin met, and Solas stilled, relishing the contact. The mage had all but forgotten about the power of such small affections, and he felt the full weight of his futile years in stubborn isolation press into him like iron as his lonely heart fluttered blissfully at her sheer existence. 

She grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. He squeezed her palm, and smiled at the returning pressure that set his skin awash in a wave of goosebumps. Tugging his arm so that it rested in her lap, she began to trace languid designs on his wrist, and Solas shuddered upon feeling the distinct buzz of electricity following the pattern of her caresses.

“I love you, Solas.” She uttered her declaration with such frank certainty that an astonished chuckle ripped its way from her throat. Solas beamed; completely at a loss for words. His cheeks burned, unused to such severe displays of emotion, but he welcomed the sensation, savoring the way his joy spread from his upturned lips to the very core of his being and back again. 

Growling, he latched himself onto her exposed neck; nuzzling and nipping at her skin until she was squirming beneath him. 

“Say it again” he murmured against her, halting his affections until she satisfied his request. 

“I love yo— _ah_!” He attacked her again, his teeth grazing her collarbone. She groaned when he pulled away.

“Again…” he muttered, his lips hovering over her throat.

“I love you!” 

Her voice rose with each confession until it was nothing but a shrill echo on the breeze. Eventually he stopped his assault to examine his work, enjoying the sight of the bright red marks that now stained her tawny skin. She sucked on her bottom lip when he pulled away, and Solas had to resist the urge to trap her in his arms and bite it himself in full few of the entire court–---Orlesian politics be damned.

Her hands pressed themselves against his cheeks as if to squeeze more understanding into him, and he chuckled at her desperation.

“I love you. I do!” Her voice was a murmur, firm, though barely audible over the constant tinkle of fountains and conversation from the gardens nearby.

“And I, you, vhenan. Always.” His heart soared at the promise, confident that he had never spoken truer words in his entire life. 

Their happiness was short lived, however; the distant shattering of glass alerting the couple to a disturbance nearby. Screams littered the air, and Aaiva jumped to attention; wobbling slightly as she dashed towards the door. Solas followed behind her, pressing against the large crowd that filled the hall as they rushed towards the frantic sounds of battle.


	14. Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is part 2 of my interpretation of the quest "Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts". (This was originally part 1, but I added another chapter, making this one the new part 2)
> 
> This chapter occurs during the final battle with Grand Duchess Florianne, and takes place from Solas' perspective. 
> 
> I always struggle with writing Solas, so if you have any tips, let me know!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave comments/kudos!

Three words. That’s all it took for him to falter.

Three words.

Three words that sung to him, dancing before his eyes so that nothing else mattered.

Three words that slowed his hand, rendering him all but useless in the raging battle in which they now found themselves.

Just three, simple words that lit his face with a perpetual smile, even as blood gushed from a wound that he was unable to feel.

It was those three words that echoed in his skull as his vision began to blur. Once the acrid stench of metal filled his nose, he swayed a little, finally accepting that he was worse off than he had previously thought.

No matter. What was one more loss on his record?

The air thickened in his chest and forced him to his knees. As he fell, he tried to accept the fitting cruelty of his fate. It would only be fair that he—after purposefully resigning himself to a solitary life of scheming and shadows— would die in this way; his inexcusable attachment for a fragile, mortal woman weakening him until he was just as brittle as those parasites that currently afflicted the ruins of his world. 

Solas waited for the inevitable wave of shame and disgust to fill him, but was forced instead to ponder the perverse joy that flooded his veins as he watched Aaiva cut down several Venatori with a sweeping arch of her bladed staff. The mage made a mental note to, if he managed to survive this day, _personally_ thank Commander Cullen for his part in training the girl—especially since Aaiva tried to avoid the Commander with concerning regularity. 

Solas shuddered as the world dimmed, leaving him with no more time to consider the impending probability of his death. His vision tilted abruptly, and then _she_ was suddenly close, wrapping her arms around him; lifting his head so that he could meet her gaze. Smiling, he marveled at the crimson perfection of her lips as she spoke to him in frenzied murmurs.

Unthinkingly, Solas lifted a hand to touch the rosy buds. _So beautiful_ , he wanted to say, but he couldn’t form the words before his vision blackened and his head flopped back limply in her arms.

A hollow slap roused him back into consciousness.

“—up! You must stay awake!”

Solas blinked away the sticky substance that sealed his eyelids shut, aided by Aaiva as she helped clear them with her thumbs. Solas trembled, feeling strangely cold, and relaxed into her as she pulled his head onto her lap. She was so very close that Solas could smell her; _cinnamon_ , he sighed, _and honey_.

Another slap rang in Solas’ ears, and he awoke to see long ebony streaks running down Aaiva’s face. He forgot for a moment where he was, distressed by her red cheeks and teary eyes. He panicked as her hands gripped his head, and tried to sit up, but she held him down with such force that he could feel the sharp jab of her nails cutting his flesh. Her mouth moved once more, slow and deliberate, obviously narrating something crucial, but the mage was deaf to her instructions.

He watched with feeble pride as she conjured up a massive wall of flame to surrounded the pair; covering them in a protective layer of flickering scarlet. Neglecting everything outside of Aaiva’s trembling lips and distressed glances, Solas reached up in an attempt to caress the girls flushed cheek, but was interrupted by a sharp, keening wail before he could make contact. 

“Fuck!”

Aaiva’s curse reached him in time for him to notice the checkered attire of several harlequins as they ripped and prodded at her fiery barrier. He watched her rise, staff extended as she ran towards the edge of the blaze that encircled them and leaped through to the other side. 

Once there, she started shooting off sparks haphazardly, goading the assassins away from Solas as he lay helpless.

The crackle of flames did little to drown out the sounds of the battle beyond, and Solas watched in paralyzed horror as Aaiva stopped her offensive attack in order to look back at him. _What was she doing?_

He tried to meet her gaze, but she wasn’t even looking at him.

Instead, she was peering at something beyond the mage, something behind the veil of fire that shielded him from the hordes of Venatori soldiers and harlequins. Aaiva shouted; waving her hands back and forth before signaling to where Solas lay. The girl paid dearly for her inattention, however; a shrill cackle piercing the air just as the Grand Duchess Florianne appeared behind her. 

_No._

_No. No. No._

_Turn around, you foolish girl!_

Solas placed his last dredges of energy into reaching for his staff, but was unable to locate it on his person. _Fenedhis._ Ignoring the pulsing pain that blurred his vision, the mage managed to roll onto his stomach. He groaned loudly as the throbbing in head intensified, but he fought through agony and threw his hand out in front of him to clutch the soft earth. Gaining purchase, he began to pull, dragging himself to the edge of the flaming barrier. 

Seeing Florianne prepare to attack Aaiva from behind, Solas tried to call out, but his lips couldn’t form the warning quick enough, and he watched in despair as Florianne reached out and grabbed Aaiva by her long hair, lifting her to the sky as she crowed in triumph.

His eyesight fading, Solas fell back to the scorched earth with a strangled howl, settling into a limp heap. He heard Aaiva cry out once more, and the clang of metal on metal, but the mage was powerless to do more than shudder as his own blood formed a warm pool beneath his head.

Suddenly, the mage felt the pressure of strong arms underneath him and a sickening tilt as the ground slid away and he was carried to safety. As Aaiva’s struggling form disappeared from his line of sight, he could hear himself protesting his rescuers aid; though, even for all his desperate scuffling, he remained unable to escape their firm grasp.

Eventually he went limp, slowly losing all sensation as the world went completely black around him; although, before darkness took hold, the memory of Aaiva’s delightful pink lips as she spoke those three perfect words echoed in his mind.


	15. Impostor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, the Inquisitor gets in an argument with Commander Cullen, and she makes a (maybe?) rash decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JUST SO YOU KNOW--Writing angry Cullen broke my soul to pieces! 
> 
> I hope you like it, and as always: I love comments/constructive criticism!

“Alright inquisitor. Once more. We must have your _full_ account of what happened at the Winter Palace.”

Aaiva’s eyes were downcast, and anger darkened her gaze. Much to Cullen’s obvious frustration, the girl remained silent, and the Commander rose from his seat; hand grasping the shining hilt of his sword. The girl winced at the motion but refused to react any further. The shems could get their knickers in as big a twist as they liked, but it wouldn’t change what little she knew—the full story of which she had already told and retold dozens of times since their arrival back to Skyhold the day before. 

Aaiva rolled her eyes as Cullen settled into another lecture, and sunk down into her chair with a sullen huff. Her silence had become a matter of principal at this point; her stubborn petulance nothing more than a way to demonstrate her displeasure at their constant patronizing. She was sick and tired of being treated like a baby, and she couldn’t stand it any longer.

Absentmindedly, the girl scratched at the skin around her nails and sighed. Honestly, they would have better luck marching back to the palace and asking the walls themselves why the night had gone so horrifically awry, because Aaiva had yet to understand the root of Florianne’s betrayal any better than they.

The girl tapped the heel of her foot against her chair leg in short, furious bursts. The resulting _thunk thunk thunk_ of the sole of her shoe against the wooden frame was the only sound that perforated the tension that clung over the small group, and the girl became painfully aware of the ragged hiss that filled the silence between the clunky raps of her boot. Cullen gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, his eyes flashing dangerously, and Aaiva felt an icy chill dance up her spine; prompting her to speak. 

“Come on, Cullen! The Orlesians loved me. Besides, Celine didn’t die. She will still support us. And Gaspard—“

A belligerent roar shook the small room, and Aaiva instinctively buried her face in her hands. The echoing cry precluded a sickening screech as the contents of the War Table scraped across the floor and then crashed against the wall.

“How could this have happened!?”

A gnawing anxiety began to claw at her stomach as the man’s voice rose. 

“Hm…” The clack of heeled boots filled the empty silence left following Cullen’s bellowing roars. “You cast doubt on your Inquisitor so easily, yet fail to recognize that the same fault lies within yourself. Did not every member of the Inquisition attend th—?’

“Not a word from you, _witch_!”

Cullen’s hiss silenced the dark haired woman, who smirked in silent amusement as she came to stand nearer to the group. Leliana glowered at the woman’s approach, her arms crossed, a forbidding frown slowly darkening her bright eyes. _Hm_. Leliana was clearly vexed by the woman’s presence, _but why?_ Aaiva considered the possibilities. _Was there a story here?_

“Commander…” Josephine’s silken tone cut through Aaiva’s musings like steel, “I am certain the Inquisitor did all that she could. There was no way of knowing that Florianne, of all people, would be behind such a heinous crime. In any case, _regardless_ of the means, the results were…more than we could have ever hoped.”

“Yes. The _uh_ …Morrigan and Josephine are correct…” Cassandra chimed in, “…we all attended. We all share the blame for not seeing the danger in time.”

Her advisors’ support bloomed red-hot in Aaiva, and the girl felt overwhelmingly relieved to have the majority on her side. 

“ _Regardless_ ,” Cullen mimicked Josephine’s apologetic lilt“…it didn’t have to end that way. Because of a single, rash decision, men died. Good men. _My_ men—”  
“Commander…” Cassandra’s warning sliced through his monologue, but he kept ranting, all the while creeping closer and closer to where Aaiva sat.

“—and _I_ would like to have something of substance to tell their families when they ask why their children won’t be coming home!” 

Aaiva froze in disbelief, paralyzed in horror at his display. He crossed the room in a few steps, and Aaiva was unable to do more than shudder as he brought his head down level with hers. He was only inches from her when he stilled; his rigid fists gripping the arms of her chair. 

“Whose side are you on, Lavellan?” Cullen growled at her “Because it certainly doesn’t seem to be ours.” His eyes shook with rage, and he gave a pointed nod towards the pale woman who stood watching the proceedings with rapt fascination. Aaiva met his aggression with a stormy glare of her own. Meanwhile, Leliana, Cassandra, and Josephine all were motionless in the periphery, still staggered from the shock of Cullen’s outburst.

“Answer me!” The commander’s bellowing roar freed Aaiva of her paralysis, and she was able to stutter a shaky reply.

“Wh-what the f-FUCK side do you THINK, Cullen?!”

Aaiva hissed a series of curses in elvish, hiding her distress behind a mask of righteous anger. Gathering up all the courage she could muster, she gestured rudely at the seething man in front of her before dipping underneath his arm and escaping through the exit towards the rear of the room. She didn’t bother to close the wooden door behind her. 

Marching to her chambers, she held her head high, refusing to let any of the people in the hall see evidence of her agonizing rage. Upon entering her room, however, she fell into roaring tangle upon the bed, releasing her fury into the plush pillows that lined her mattress. Once she exhausted herself, she lay in a dazed heap, and watched the clouds float by her window as the hours passed and day became night. 

Once silence had descended upon the holding, Aaiva rose from her mattress. Shuffling in the darkness, she kicked her feet through the items that littered her floor, crouching low when her toe crashed painfully against a heavy leather bundle buried beneath a pile of clothes. Yanking it from the heap, Aaiva tossed it unceremoniously to the bed, and turned quickly back towards her dresser. She dug down towards the bottom of the largest drawer, not stopping until the scratchy pinch of wool bit at her fingers. She trembled as she changed out of the uniform that so proudly bore the insignia of the inquisition; folding it neatly and placing it on top of her desk. Rooting around, she grabbed the first piece of parchment she could reach, and scrawled a hasty note that she left tucked into the collar of her discarded shirt. 

Standing in front of the mirror that faced her dresser, she pulled a rough green tunic over her head, followed by a holey pair of leggings. Aaiva watched in perplexed fascination as her outfit fell into place; her look completed by the worn leather pack that hung limply from her shoulders.

 _How strange_ , she thought as her eyes frantically scanned her face and body, unable to quash her disgust for the impostor that gaped back at her from behind the glass. _Impostor_. Yes, that was a good word for her—impostor—because impostor she was. The dark eyed fraud staring back at her, with her strange tattoos and odd manners, was nobody’s Inquisitor—nobody’s Herald...

She was nothing, and no one, and couldn’t stand being there for another minute.

Aaiva gasped for air. She felt as though she were choked by her reflection; strangled by the embroidered edges of her tunic and drowning in the familiar odor of halla leather. She marveled at how her simple appearance contrasted the delicate furnishings of the grand room, confident in the fact that she did not belong there; not in the slightest. She was mistaken to believe she ever could have succeeded in this world—wrong to ever have hoped for such a chance to escape the hollow reality of her meager existence. However, thinking back on her life before, Aaiva had to wonder at the probability of her falling back in with her clan again. Would they even accept her now, or had she become too accustomed to this life to belong? 

The girl’s fiery temper once again bubbled to the surface, and picking up a discarded shoe by her bed, she flung it towards the silver glass, shattering her reflection into dozens of pieces. Stomping over the jagged shards, Aaiva left her chambers, huffing with blind fury by the time she made it to the outer gate. Once there, she faced the guards stationed at the wall with icy confidence. They opened the door at her command, and she was off, walking aimlessly out towards the forest that skirted Skyhold’s base. 

She hadn’t gone more than a couple hundred feet when a firm hand grasped her shoulder, spinning her around. She lashed out without thinking, her fist coming to meet the jaw of whoever had touched her, but a large hand wrapped around her wrist, rendering her blow ineffective. She shrieked as a hooded figure emerged from the darkness, pulling her close, but her cry was cut short as a cool palm was placed against her lips. 

“Inquisitor?”

Solas’ husky query threatened Aaiva’s resolve, but she fought her desire to fall into his arms, and pulled away into the humid darkness surrounding them. 

“You should be resting, Solas” Aaiva muttered to the ground. “You need to go back.”

As if to confirm her declaration, the mage swayed slightly; his face growing pale. Aaiva reached for his arm to hold him steady, and swallowed the lump that had risen to her throat. “Please” she whimpered, “you aren’t ready for this, lethallin, you must go back to the healers!” 

Crickets sang around them, filling the quiet until Solas spoke up once more.

“Where are you going, vhenan?” He placed a cool hand over her own and squeezed. His voice seemed strained, though it softened towards the end; his endearment ringing in Aaiva’s ears like bells. Aaiva had to fight to keep her distance, answering his question in a trembling voice.

“I don’t k-know-w” her voice caught on the last word, and hot, angry tears rushed to her eyes. She turned away, but Solas pulled her in to his chest.

“No. I have to go.”

Solas stiffened as she pulled away, effectively locking her in his arms. 

“Then let us be off.” 

She ripped herself from his chest. The world around them crackled as her self-control wavered, and painful, green sparks flew from her fingers with wild abandon. 

“Why?” she spat, “do you distrust me as well? Am I some helpless thing to be babysat? Or do you reckon me a monster, a savage Dalish mage to be feared and monitored, like they do?” She gestured forcefully towards Skyhold’s dim outline, waiting for the poison in her words to spread, but Solas remained unreadable; never breaking eye-contact. 

Aaiva waited for the inevitable round of questions her furious accusations were sure to spark, but was disappointed in his simple answer.

“Of course not.” 

Aaiva’s throat constricted as he regarded her; his silence and sympathetic eyes soothing the fire that had blazed beneath her skin all afternoon. Once the last flickers of electricity stopped dancing around them, Solas motioned for her to lead to way. 

Spinning back around, she stomped into the forest. She didn’t bother to deny him; his unwavering gaze making refusal on her part moot. Every so often she would halt her march, listening intently to the sounds that echoed in the trees, and waiting for Solas to catch up. Eventually, she slowed her angry pace to allow Solas and herself the ability to wander side by side through the endless dark in amicable silence. It was in this way, little by little, that they disappeared into the inky black of night; Skyhold becoming a distant speck behind them.


	16. I Have Questions For You, Old Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor and Solas make camp after running away together from Skyhold. Wracked with guilt after Cullen's accusations, Aaiva can't help but feel responsible for Solas' current state; though she has some pressing questions that desperately need answering.
> 
> Basically, this is an angsty little [love] moment for the Inquisitor after all the stress of the Winter Palace. <3 <3 <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love feedback, let me know how I'm doing!! <3
> 
> Also, feel free to follow me on TUMBLR!

“I can think of a _much_ better use for all of this, you know.” Aaiva’s murmur disrupted the eerie silence of early dawn, and a hesitant smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Solas chuckled under his breath. “I am certain that you could.” 

“I’m just being honest; it’s way more fun to smoke this stuff.” She shot her companion a smirk before returning to her activity.

Aaiva was in a remarkably good mood, albeit feeling rather stiff from her night spent frantically wandering the darkened forest. In her hand she held several small bunches of various plants, and was doing her best to catalog them within the heavy pages of a large red tome. The girl was quickly absorbed in her task. She flipped the book page by page, searching diligently for the correct entry for each specimen. Once she found its description, she would lay a single example of the plant out and gently coax the bindings shut; pressing it flat. 

Solas sat across from her with a bowl in his lap. Every now and then, the girl would pass over a bundle of leafy ingredients, and Solas would crush them into paste. They worked steadily in this way until her pile had disappeared, and then Aaiva was left to observe as Solas continued mixing the leafy stuff. She wrinkled her nose as she watched him work, and he smiled warmly in return; offering her the container.

“Would you like to try?”

She accepted, and began crushing the fragrant concoction with the tool Solas provided. Soon, however, her arm became heavy, and she set the bowl down beside her so she could stretch her hands. Solas met her gaze as she glanced up, and she felt her throat constrict upon seeing the darkened rings that gathered below his eyes, accompanied by the swollen ridge that stretched from the crown of his head to just above his eyebrow. It was clear that he wasn’t entirely recovered from their earlier mission; a fact that strangled Aaiva with guilt for having lead him around the forest all night.

“How about we make camp here for a bit?"

Relief fluttered across his face, and they quickly went about making a makeshift camp. While he took care of their packs, Aaiva grabbed their bedrolls and laid them out beneath a nearby tree; hoping its leafy branches would provide them with some shelter from the hot summer sun as they slept. Plopping herself down on top of the blankets, she motioned for Solas to sit next to her.

“And don’t forget the stuff!”

Moments later, Solas was joining her. He handed her the bowl that contained the freshly mixed herbs, and closed his eyes in preparation for what was to come. He tensed as she gently dabbed the concoction over the jagged gash on his forehead, and she mumbled a series of apologies as she worked. Once the affected area was thoroughly covered, she let her fingers hover over the swollen skin. 

“Do you remember the spell?”

“Um…” she closed her eyes and focused. “…yeah, I think so.”

Muttering under her breath, Aaiva channeled gentle waves of healing magic that slowly washed over the wound on Solas’ head. Her fingers tingled with the effort, and she made sure not to let the spell linger too long, lest she do irreparable damage to the wound during such a critical stage in the healing process. Though she was certainly no healer, she thought she could see evidence of a scar already forming right above his eyebrow, and grew hopeful that he would be back to full capacity within a day or two. 

“Did I help at all? Does it feel any better?”

His appreciative nod made Aaiva smile, but the gesture didn’t reach her eyes.

“The healer said you could have died, you know.” Aaiva’s voice trembled as she stared at her work in proud fascination. “They said that the poison was spreading to your brain, and that it could have reached your h-heart.” Tears sprang to her eyes, but she continued to stare at the wound, too tired, emotionally and physically, to do anything else. 

“I’m sorry, Solas. I’m so very sorry this happened.” Her throat constricted, and her tongue felt thick in her mouth. Grim thoughts emerged, along with the strange temptation to punish herself in some way, and Aaiva cringed as the black tendrils of her own self-abhorrence trickled through her mind. If it weren’t for her—if she hadn’t been fucking around—if she had just _.Payed. Fucking. Attention._ they probably wouldn’t be in this mess. Aaiva felt her face darken, clouded by the force of her own disgust. She allowed the waves of guilt to consume her; letting them fuel the ever-present doubt that whispered in her ears to flee…

She hadn’t known she was making a fist until Solas pried it open and interlaced his fingers with hers. 

“I am not the only one who is hurting.” Reaching up with his free hand, he slid his thumb across her swollen bottom lip, stopping before he reached the part that had recently been split open. From there he brushed the fading purple bruise that stained the area around her right eye, his examination of the sensitive skin making her gasp as an achy pain seized her. Aaiva pulled away from his touch and shook her head. 

“It’s not the same, and you know it.”

The heat from the sun swallowed them completely, and all around them the world sizzled in response. Taking a deep breath of hazy, humid air, Aaiva coughed, and she found herself nearly sweating from the effort. Tugging her shirt over her head, she threw it in the direction of their packs, followed by her leggings. Upon freeing herself of the burden of clothing, she let herself lay exposed and waited expectantly as Solas disrobed as well.

“I have so many questions for you, old man.” Aaiva smiled as he folded his shirt and leggings neatly before laying them down beside their bedrolls. Her eyes drifted closed as she sorted through all the things that had been accumulating in her mind over the past few days. She marveled at her bravery; it seemed her exhaustion was granting her a peculiar distance from her mouth that grew as she relaxed into the dizzying heat cast by the sun. 

“Old man!?” Solas guffawed. “Is that your idea of pillow talk?”

“Mmh...maybe so.” She turned to face her companion, and blinked away the sprinkles of sunlight that filtered in through the leaves. “Why do you ask, _old man_?”

“ _Mm…mm…mm…_ ” Solas wrapped himself around her, trapping her against his sticky body. Aaiva squirmed against him, but he held her immobile in his embrace. “Perhaps I don’t like it, _little girl_ ” 

“Mmm…I think you do.” The heat emanating from the couple as they lay entangled was enough to make them both perspire, which in turn exacerbated the excruciating warmth radiating around them. The hardening pulse that pressed against Aaiva’s belly reminded her of another rather… _intimate_ morning several days ago, and she sighed. They had yet to speak of it, their business in Halamshiral having prevented them from having time to talk. However now that they lay so closely, completely exhausted and alone for the first time, she felt the tumble of questions and emotion that she would normally be too ashamed to ever utter threaten to burst free. 

“Seriously, though. Would you answer, if I asked?” She tried to mask her embarrassment by rolling her hips against him, but he held her still in his arms; steadily meeting her gaze all the while. 

“I…suppose.” He regarded her warily for a moment before continuing. “Do I have the opportunity to ask questions of you in return?” His eyes sparkled, and Aaiva beamed.

“I…suppose…” she mimicked, and Solas kissed her nose. “Alright. What is your question, vhenan?”


	17. Choosing Sides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ....................................................................................................................................................................................................  
>  “A friend once told me that I would never again have to mourn alone…”, his cool whisper tickled Aaiva’s neck, the sensation of which was exacerbated by the unrelenting friction of his hand as it slid over her body, “…and since I’ve become impossibly _fond _of that friend…”, he nuzzled the area just below her ear, “…I would like to return the gesture.” He planted a series of wet kisses on her throat before adding breathlessly: “Mourning or no, my place, in all things, is by your side.”__  
> ....................................................................................................................................................................................................

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was super hard for me to write for some reason--so let me know how it looks!
> 
> I love feedback! And thank you for reading!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <3

...“Alright. What is your question, vhenan?”

Aaiva could see the sparkling glimmer of the sun reflecting in Solas’ eyes as it ascended in the sky, filling the blue spheres with such pure, golden light that they appeared to glow. His skin was ivory marble—smooth and beautiful; the splash of freckles dotting his cheeks the only deviation to that flawless perfection so unique to him. Aaiva squinted at the tiny marks, resisting the urge to kiss each and every one.

A crimson blush crept up her neck and stung her ears at the idea. She worried then if Solas had noticed her reaction, and attempted to bury her face in the crook of her arm by way of defense. He laughed when she tried to hide, and pulled her closer, but she stiffened at his touch, and his hand fell away. 

“Maybe we should wait until later…” She masked her embarrassment with a yawn, and wiggled down into her bedroll. Safely concealed beneath the covers, she waited for Solas to follow her example, and smiled victoriously when she felt him slide in next to her. Her triumph was soon forgotten, however, as a sly hand eased its way over the skin at her hip, shooting electric blooms of sensation throughout her body. 

“What is troubling you, my heart?” Solas murmured against her neck as his fingers traveled up towards her waist. “Why are you hiding?”

“Nothing…I’m not…” she lied, her breathy response betraying her body’s reaction to his touch. 

“Then ask me your questions, don’t be shy.” Her lips tilted upwards unintentionally as his voice rumbled against her throat, and she felt some of the shame regarding her ignorance fall away. The rhythmic keening of cicadas deep in the forest filled the silence as Solas waited patiently for Aaiva to speak, and Aaiva felt herself being lulled into an exhausted slumber by the wailing tune as she thought of what to say first.

“ _Fine_ …” When she finally spoke up, her words were jumbled and thick on her tongue; barely audible over the screeching of insects and other creatures as they awoke and began the day. 

“I suppose, _primarily_ , I wanted to know why in the world you’re even here. Why you followed me, I guess, not even knowing what I’m up to…”

Her eyes fluttered sleepily as she talked, and her voice tapered off slightly towards the end as though the effort to speak were too great. Solas didn’t answer immediately either, a great cause for concern in Aaiva’s mind, but her worry was soothed by the steady brushing of his fingers against her skin.

“A friend once told me that I would never again have to mourn alone…”, his cool whisper tickled Aaiva’s neck, the sensation of which was exacerbated by the unrelenting friction of his hand as it slid over her body, “…and since I’ve become impossibly _fond _of that friend…”, he nuzzled the area just below her ear, “…I would like to return the gesture.” He planted a series of wet kisses on her throat before adding breathlessly: “Mourning or no, my place, in all things, is by your side.”__

__Grateful tears sprang to Aaiva’s eyes, leaving burning wet streaks in their wake as they fell. Soft feather-light kisses on her cheeks alerted her to Solas’ presence, and more tears threatened to spill as his lips brushed away the salty drops that ran down to her neck._ _

__“I just feel so…awful for having dragged you out here.” Aaiva gasped as Solas nipped at her jawline. “I’m so afraid I may have made a terrible mistake in running off like this; I acted so horribly—it’s not exactly a shining testament to my leadership—but you should have seen it, Solas! The way they were looking at me, screaming at me, blaming me! And once everyone finds out, they will likely think the worst of me...”_ _

__Solas stopped his attentions to meet her gaze; nodding in solemn agreement. “Yes, perhaps they will…” Aaiva felt her breath catch in her throat as he affirmed her fear, and she desperately tried to defend herself._ _

__“I just couldn’t stand it another minute. I felt like I was suffocating, drowning under the weight of their expectations, and I just…just…What else could I do?”_ _

__“From what Cassandra told me…”_ _

__Aaiva gasped in shock. _Cassandra? Blabbing to Solas?_ She had to admit it made some sense; Cassandra had been one of the few to stick up for her during the meeting. She nodded as the pieces fell into place. That must have been how Solas had known to come find her._ _

__“…I would say their accusations were inexcusable, and you were not mistaken in reacting negatively. However, vhenan,” he pulled her body flush with his own as he continued, “…imagine it from their perspective—a complete stranger with no personal ties to their world fluttering in on the breeze to gander in their politics? Lead their armies? Fight in their wars? I, myself, would be more than curious as to such a person’s motivations during a time of relative peace, not to mention during as grim an age as this.”_ _

__“Whose side are you on, Solas?!"_ _

__She hissed the words unthinkingly, and her insides withered at their brutal familiarity. Honestly, Aaiva was perfectly aware that he had an excellent point, but she loathed to admit the depth of her fault. Sniffing, she pulled away from his touch once more, curling in on herself to hide the extent of her shame. She knew he wasn’t trying to hurt her feelings, but still she felt betrayed by his unflinching honesty, and her exhaustion only strengthened the potency of her jumbled emotions._ _

__Solas didn’t respond; only pulled her in close and buried his face in her hair. Aaiva didn’t speak either, too tired and upset to be productive in conversation any longer. They relaxed into each other as the sun continued to rise and blanket the earth with its dizzying heat, and Aaiva delighted upon feeling the golden rays hit her skin through cracks in the foliage above. Eventually her anger dissipated, and she began to fall asleep, curling against her companion. Upon feeling her relax against him, Solas resumed his previous assault at her waist; letting his fingers slide languidly over her belly. His burning touch made her insides clench, and she arched her back slightly to encourage the continuation of his attentions. Suddenly, however, a question popped into her head, spurred to remembrance by the throbbing ache centered between her legs, and it tumbled out in a rush before she could stop it._ _

__“That stuff you did…a few days ago, when Cassandra and Varric interrupted?”_ _

__He chuckled against her hair, maintaining his hand’s achingly slow pace as he traced the tawny expanse of her stomach._ _

__“It had some very…interesting…results. Something I had never experienced before…”_ _

__He lifted his head and leaned over to meet Aaiva’s gaze; incredulity brightening his expression. She glanced up at him in intermittent bursts, trying to force away the blush that crept across her ears by sheer force of will._ _

__“Never? You mean—?”_ _

__Aaiva shook her head and closed her eyes, waiting for the weight of her embarrassment to crush her._ _

__“So, no one has ever gotten you to—?”_ _

__She shook her head even quicker, hoping for some disaster to strike her from the earth._ _

__“What about yourself? Haven’t you ever tried—?”_ _

__Aaiva scoffed. Living with the Dalish didn’t really offer one a plethora of opportunities for privacy of that sort._ _

__“Nothing? Have you not had s—?_ _

__“I’ve had sex…” she interjected. “…we just…I just…had no idea.”_ _

__His barking laughter filled the forest, and he tightened his hold around her while his fingers continued their work._ _

__“Well, that will have to change.” Solas buried his face in her neck and bit down hard, making Aaiva cry out._ _

__“Now?” She was panting, all traces of her frustration and exhaustion forgotten._ _

__“Soon, vhenan,” he kissed the spot below her ear, “but first we sleep.”_ _


	18. We Have A Decision To Make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> “Let’s get a move on then!” She breezed past Solas, a beacon of pure light in that dim world that left him staggering as she wandered airily into the darkness. Solas beamed beneath the raw force of her brilliance, and felt himself fall victim to such a divine madness that he all but lost sense of himself.
> 
> “Wait for me…” Reaching out to grab her shirttail, he held her still until they were side by side. She surprised him when he caught up by snaking an arm around his hips and grabbing hold of his waistband. Solas’ heart swelled. It was always so simple, her affection, yet it left him reeling and breathless—dripping with appreciation that someone so delightful could ever love him.  
> \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> In this chapter, the inquisitor has a nightmare, and Solas sees more than he should. The couple also make a decision regarding their next steps as they travel.  
> This chapter takes place from Solas' POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone who reads this; seriously you guys are the coolest <3 
> 
> I always appreciate comments/criticism. I love to know whats good/bad! Also, feel free to follow me on Tumblr!

Solas was conflicted.

He usually wasn’t one to be drawn to nightmares; preferring the bright, sort of glorious dreams that signaled happiness and fortune. Things of such splendid nature were too few in his mind—vivid, dazzling flecks of perfection in the Fade’s profound abyss. He loved to linger in those memories; flitting idly from thought to thought. Joyfully they sang to him, calling to him in the darkness, and he constantly longed to partake in their glow.

Nightmares, however, abounded in the Fade; filling every crevice of vacuous space that had not yet been graced by the shining light that Solas so adored. They, in a word, were common. Symptoms of the strongest and most primitive of any mortal emotion, they thrived in that place; feeding off of the constant darkness of which they themselves were made. Solas loathed to pass through those terrors. They were too potent, he thought, too personal, too…real.

Tonight, however, he was faced with a dilemma: to pursue his dreams, or to witness her nightmare?

Aaiva was expressive in her sleep; her consciousness a beacon that always lead him her way. Even at Skyhold, amongst the hundreds of other dreamers, her mind shone loudest; tempting him nearer. In all the time he had known her, he had never given in to his impulse to see inside her head; satisfied to host her when the desire struck him. However, tonight, he stumbled upon a creeping melancholy that froze him in his tracks. Faint whispers sounded in his ear, and he felt the faded dredges of some profound horror ripple over his skin.

Respect for her privacy demanded that he flee, that he leave the poor girl to her thoughts in order to pursue his own; however something else tickled at his consciousness, something so utterly woeful that he felt a strange obligation prompt him forward and into her mind.

 

.............................

 

“Any dreams?” Solas probed, tugging the strap of his pack into place. Aaiva paused her braiding to shake her head forcefully, a dazzling smile coming to her lips. The gesture sent his heart racing, but the delightful sensation was overshadowed by the horror he had witnessed in her mind just minutes ago. She quickly resumed work on her hair, her gaze falling to the ground.

“Nor I.” Solas lied, caught between frustration and empathy. He had his share of secrets—he couldn’t blame the girl for not wanting to share hers.

_But you could comfort her…_

Solas squashed the thought, though whispers of it still echoed in his ears as he watched her read a yellowed and drooping map. Her nose wrinkled in concentration as she followed the fading lines that filled the discolored thing, and he fidgeted with the straps lining his shoulders as the parchment in her hand took on a new meaning. He had seen her with it often enough; a part of the never changing arsenal of personal possessions she carried along on every mission, but he had never understood her strange attachment until today.

A prickle on his scalp caught his attention, and his thoughts turned quickly to the book from which she had produced the recipe for the mysterious concoction they had used on his wound. It was old as well; another strange token he had been privy to see her stow away in her pack, though he had never before given serious thought to what could lay between the scarlet bindings.

“Are you alright? Are you in pain?”

Aaiva’s concerned murmur sent waves of guilt crashing into him that made him reluctant to meet her eyes. Shaking his head, he relaxed his fist and forced a small smile to his lips, but dropped his gaze and stilled as she approached.

”Are you sure, Solas? We can try something else…or go back?”

Her voice was shrill, and he could sense her distress; though whether the root of her worry lay with his injuries or the idea of returning to Skyhold, he couldn’t decipher. A small hand touched the jagged scar that had formed over the course of their sleep, and he shook his head ardently.

“I feel wonderful…” he caressed her cheek, “…perfect. Your remedy seems to be working beyond any I could have hoped for elsewhere.”

He had to bite his tongue to keep from pressing her further, and busied himself instead with tracing the splash of freckles that had appeared across her cheekbones since summer began. Her pleased smile made his throat constrict, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward into a small grin of his own.

“Let’s get going then,” she sang, “I’m so hungry!”

Solas grabbed her hand as she turned to walk away, and he pulled her to his chest in a sudden, bold move.

“I love you, you know?” He pressed his face into her hair, hoping she couldn’t feel the wetness that threatened to spill from his eyes. “And I do not say that lightly.”

_Talk to me Aaiva_ , his heart screamed, _let me help you!_ However, Solas only held her close and hoped that some strange impulse would push her to confide in him, to trust him, to let him show her the true and unconditional nature of his love for her, but he knew it was pointless. She guarded her secrets as closely as he hid his own, and he had to respect the depth of her devotion to keeping them locked away.

“I will always love you. No matter what happens.”

He kissed her head and urged her forward; quickly wiping his cheeks. She stumbled onward in an apparent daze, and glanced back at Solas every now and then in obvious confusion. Solas returned her frequent looks with a series of shy smiles. Eventually, Aaiva turned it into a game; making absurd faces at random intervals as they followed an old trail. Solas couldn’t help but chuckle at her attempts towards humor as they trudged through the darkening mountainside in an exhausted and hungry stupor. Gradually, his spirits rose, and he felt a warm contentment settle deep in his bones. An unreasonable happiness burned in his chest; threatening to burst from his lips, and he silently wished that they could wander the forest together forever until the earth crumbled to dust around them.

_You could, you know…_

That errant voice spoke up again, and Solas was too slow to push it away.

_You care for her. You could tell her—free yourself of this burden!_

Solas shook his head and swallowed, knowing he could never place such a heavy weight on someone so dear to him.

_Coward._

Solas accepted the abuse, and grabbed Aaiva’s hand. She squeezed his fingers, and he returned the gesture. The cicadas were making their reappearance as the sun set, and Solas was grateful for the blaring noise that dulled the sound of his guilt.

Soon, the couple noticed that the trail was evening out, and the scratchy brush of forest that covered the mountains was making way for lush green wilds. They quickly came upon a signpost and Aaiva read their options aloud as the last dredges of light faded behind the trees.

“…It looks like we have a decision to make…” Aaiva brought out her staff and rapped it against the ground. Soon, the couple was bathed in a warm, glowing light.

“I am trying to get to this temple…” Aaiva muttered, showing Solas a spot on her map, “…and it’s still a day or two’s walk away, but I’m _starving_ and there’s no game around here.”

“Mmh…” Solas tilted his head in surprise when she showed him the location, and felt his ears burn at the coincidence. Nodding, he looked back at the sign; considering their options.

“There is a village along the way…maybe three hours or so from here if the road is clear. We could find an inn—buy some food?”

Aaiva nodded at his suggestion, and rummaged through her pack.

“Do you have any money?” Her voice was small, and Solas felt his heart sink.

“No.”

Aaiva looked back at the map.

“Well, what about here…” she pointed at a town to the north, “the Inquisition has a supply cache there. We could pop in and get what we need.” Her face was hopeful, but Solas had his misgivings.

“It is rather far out of the way just for an easy meal…” he raised an eyebrow, “though with no money, we certainly have few other options.”

“Let’s get a move on then!” She breezed past Solas, a beacon of pure light in that dim world that left him staggering as she as wandered airily into the darkness. Solas beamed beneath the raw force of her brilliance, and felt himself fall victim to such a divine madness that he all but lost sense of himself.

“Wait for me…” Reaching out to grab her shirttail, he held her still until they were side by side. She surprised him when he caught up by snaking an arm around his hips and grabbing hold of his waistband. Solas’ heart swelled. It was always so simple, her affection, yet it left him reeling and breathless—dripping with appreciation that someone so delightful could ever love him.

In that moment, Solas wished there was something he could do to soothe the tortured memories she was trying so hard to hide. He wanted to help her, to love her, to mend her aching heart just as she was healing his—something, anything to feel worthy of her affections.

_Do something, then._

Knowing it was the best he could do in that moment, Solas smiled, tightening his hold around Aaiva’s waist, and followed her bouncing braid through the dark without question.


	19. Liar, Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ..............................................................................................................................................................................................  
>  “Seriously, Solas I’m alright!” she gasped through waves of pain; forcing herself to meet his gaze “I’m fine. I promise…It’s not that bad.” With a shallow laugh, she ripped her hand away and held it to her chest, trying to underplay the severity of her shock. Solas’ eyes dimmed, and he grabbed her wrist.
> 
> “Stop it!” She snatched her arm away, overwhelmed by fear and shame, and slid down to the branch below.
> 
> “Let me help you!”
> 
> “I don't need help, I’m fine!” she brushed past him on her way down; repeating the mantra, “…I’m fine..."  
> ..............................................................................................................................................................................................

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fenedhis- wolf dick  
> Vhenan’ara – my love / heart’s desire  
> Ma’huarasha- my honey / sexual connotation
> 
> This chapter also features a riddle--The point is to spell out the correct word based off of a series of clues. For example: My first is in call, but not in doll (c), my second is in ball, but not in bill (a), my third is in mat, but not in man (t) What am I? = I'm a CAT. 
> 
> Feel free to leave comments/criticism and kudos! Thank you everyone who reads it, and feel free to follow me on Tumblr!  
> ...........................................................................................................................................................................................

_Don’t look down…don’t look down._

Aaiva sat with her back against the trunk of an enormous tree; the rough bark digging into her arms and neck. The wide branch beneath her swayed slightly, causing her throat to constrict. Ever since she was a child, climbing had caused her an indescribable amount of distress, but yet, here she was; dangling in the air with nowhere to go but up.

_All because of him and his stupid mouth…. That stupid, pretty mouth._

She took a deep breath and leaned forward; gripping the branch that held her.

“Why do I keep doing this to myself?” She muttered, her voice quickly swallowed by the breeze. 

_Why can’t I ever say no? Why do I want to impress him so badly?_

_Because you love him, idiot._

The bark dug into her palm, and she felt the mark begin to flicker as the wind picked up again. Aaiva whimpered, swallowing her fear and praying to all of the gods she could remember in a trembling voice.

“You know, they may hear you better from higher up…”

Solas’ teasing boiled under Aaiva’s skin, and she had to fight the urge to lift her hand in a rude gesture and show him exactly what she thought.

“How about you climb up here and do this yourself if you aren’t happy with my methods!” The fearful tremor in her voice nulled the severity of her words.

“Someone’s a sore loser!” He set their packs down, lounging casually against the giant roots protruding from the earth, “but such are the rules of the game, and you lost fair and square.”

“ _Fair and square_ ,” she mimicked in a nasally voice, sticking out her tongue. “Fair and square my ass. Those riddles were ridiculous—I was doomed to fail from the start.”

“Aren’t we all?” His smile was so bright that Aaiva could feel the corners of her mouth lift in response. Biting her tongue, she furrowed her brows and tried to appear indignant as she slid shakily to her feet.

“Fenedhis!” She squeezed her eyes closed and whimpered as her left hand trembled. _This is a bad idea…_ She bit her lip, hoping her cry would be drowned by the rustling of leaves around her. The slow crackle of electricity sounded in her ears and her head began to spin. The bark of the tree scraped against her skin and clothing as she rose, but Aaiva pressed her back into the trunk even harder still in a desperate search for balance.

“Oh, my beloved Inquisitor…” Solas’ musical voice trickled through the branches “…divine Herald; slayer of demons and sealer of the breach…have you gotten yourself stuck in a tree?”

“ _Psh_ …” she snorted in an artificial display of confidence, “No.“

“Are you sure? Would you like me to come up there and get you?” His barking laugh made her ears burn, and she forced herself to concentrate on getting to the next branch. 

“I _don’t_ need your help!”

Ignoring her discomfort, she wrapped her arms around an overhead branch and resumed her prayers in a whisper; too proud to admit how much she wished he really would climb up there, wrap her in his arms, and carry her down to safety. Closing her eyes, she locked her legs around the tree limb above her and swung herself up to sitting; repeating the process all over again. Towards the top of the tree she ran out of branches to cling to and had to find a place to stand, making sure to keep one hand on the trunk for balance.  
Lifting her other arm, she brushed away the twigs and leaves blocking her view and peered out over the sea of forest below. It was beautiful, Aaiva couldn’t deny it, but the unobstructed breeze that shook the green canopy blanketing the earth made her anxious, and she wanted to be back on something _still_ immediately. Desperate to complete her chore as quickly as possible, she looked for signs of civilization, and was relieved to see the hazy outline of buildings being gradually illuminated by the rising sun in the distance.

“I see it!”

She peered down through the foliage, trying to make out Solas’ shape, but he was obscured by the shaking leaves.

“It’s not far at all, we should…”

An intense burning sensation on Aaiva’s left palm distracted her, and her voice tapered off. Pressing her hand forcefully against the bark of the tree, she looked for any relief she could while also maintaining her footing—no easy feat, she came to find. Clenching her teeth, she looked out onto the horizon and fought the tears that threatened to fall.  
_It’s okay_ , she told herself unconvincingly, _you’re gonna be alright._

Aaiva whimpered and tried not to struggle against the emerald waves of electricity that danced up and down her arm, but she began to tremble violently and leaned against the trunk of the tree for support. Bringing her hand to her chest, she let a few tears fall unchecked. _Why was this happening?_ The breeze picked up, tugging at her hair and shirt, and she felt herself sway. _What if I fell…_ she mused as her body shook with silent spasms, _could dying be more horrible than this?_

Several moments later it dulled to a throbbing ache, and Aaiva sagged against the tree in relief.

“Aaiva…?”

She hadn’t noticed the hand steadying her until it was removed.

“Solas! Hi!” Aaiva yelped in surprise; caught between relief and embarrassment as she dug her fingers into the bark beside her. Her vision swam and she swayed, her legs trembling weakly. Though considerably less forceful than before, the mark continued to pulse, and she couldn’t stop from groaning as her body shook.

“Shh, sit down.”

Something grabbed her wrist, and she gasped as she was pulled firmly to sitting against the trunk of the tree. Solas swiftly climbed up to her level, maintaining contact with her arm. Aaiva’s heart skipped as he sat across from her, and she quickly lowered her head to hide her face. The branch holding her tilted slightly under their combined weight, but she didn’t have the emotional capacity to worry about anything other than the flickering tendrils of flame that licked her palm. 

“Are you alright? Hey, look at me…”

Aavia nodded; tears of embarrassment cooling on her cheeks as the wind whipped around them. Cool hands held her face, lifting her chin so that she was forced to meet his gaze.

“Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. Worried eyes sought her own, but she was still too dazed by her pain to do anything more than stare blankly as he shifted to examine her palm between the emerald flashes that seized her. 

“I’m okay…” she whispered, crying out when his fingers brushed the flickering center of the mark. “Honestly, it’s nothing…I’m fine, Solas.”

“Yes, clearly you’re the picture of health.” His voice shook, betraying the depth of his emotion, and Aaiva felt immediately obligated to assuage his fears.

“Seriously, I’m alright!” she gasped through waves of pain; forcing herself to meet his gaze “I’m fine. I promise…It’s not that bad.” With a shallow laugh, she ripped her hand away and held it to her chest, trying to underplay the severity of her shock. Solas’ eyes dimmed, and he grabbed her wrist.

“Stop it!” She snatched her arm away, overwhelmed by fear and shame, and slid down to the branch below.

“Aaiva! Let me help you!”

“I don't need help, I’m fine!” she brushed past him on her way down; repeating the mantra, “…I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong with me. I’m just tired or hungry or something.”

_Or something? Rock-solid excuse._

Lowering her gaze, she continued her shaky descent through the swaying branches. She could feel Solas’ eyes on her the entire way, and she tried desperately to appear normal; fighting through the dizziness that made her legs tremble weakly.

Gathering her courage, she let herself hang from the lowest branch, raising her voice so that Solas would hear.

“I saw the town…right up the road…not far…” she huffed, falling to earth in a heap. Her legs crumpled uselessly beneath her, too feeble to support her weight, and she cried out in frustration.

Solas landed skillfully next to her and helped her to her feet; glaring at her all the while. She cringed when his fingers brushed the mark, but she bit her lip to hide her pained expression. His eyes clouded, a look of such utter distress flashing across his face that Aaiva felt her stomach clench.

“I’m really alright, Solas!” Aaiva choked out, speaking up before he had the chance to talk and squeezing his hands against her chest. _Maybe if she said it enough, it would become true_.

Quickly, she searched for a way to change the subject. “Uh…why don’t we play another round? You can start this time.”

Solas stared at her in blatant disbelief. “No.”

“Please!” She pretended to pout, brutally aware of how obvious her ploy must seem.

Solas’ nose flared, and a dangerous haze darkened his vision. Changing tactics, Aaiva smiled as convincingly as she could and brought his hands to her cheeks. It was a desperate display of affection, but effective.

“ _Play_ with me, vhenan’ara,” she breathed the words, guiding his hands over her face and neck before running her lips over his knuckles, “…please?”

She shot him a pleading look, content to see that her sultry tone wasn’t passing unnoticed. Solas cleared his throat and looked away, a steady blush coloring his neck, and Aaiva beamed.

“Fine. And if I win? Again?”

“Uhm…” she looked around. What could she bet? For the past few hours, they had been playing for chores—all of which had been allotted to Aaiva—and she definitely didn’t want to add on to her list.

She said the first thing that came to her mind. “How about a kiss?” 

His mouth twitched.

“And what would you like of me if you win?”

She pressed his palm against her cheek. “What do you want to give me?” 

He raised an eyebrow. 

“Alright then. If you can _honestly_ ,” he emphasized the word, “answer my question, then you will have a prize _of my choosing_. Realize, however, that _this_ conversation…” he lifted her left hand, “is in no way over.”

Aaiva sighed and sagged her shoulders.

“Ready?” He wasted no time in starting the riddle. “…My first is in mislead, but not in dismay, my second is in deceit but not in betray…”

“Wait, wait, wait!”

Solas paused as she gathered her thoughts.

“Hold on, does deceit have an ‘i’?” Aaiva mumbled, intertwining their fingers. The ache in her hand was all but forgotten now; her desire to placate him overshadowing the pain that had plagued her just minutes before.

“I’m afraid I cannot tell you.” Solas started walking and Aaiva stumbled along exhaustedly beside him, trying to remember the order of the clues.

“My third is in tales but not in fiction…”

Aaiva swung the hand holding Solas’ gently back and forth; watching in satisfaction as his lips twitched upwards involuntarily at the gesture. He squeezed her fingers as their hands dipped and rose, flashing her an almost imperceptible smile before giving her the final clue.

“My fourth is in fraudulence but not in conviction. What am I?”

She stared at him in disbelief; it was _way_ too easy. _Was he throwing the game?_

“I am…uh,” Aaiva fell quiet for a moment; shuffling through the various letters in her mind. Solas raised an eyebrow expectantly, but she needed to be sure.

“Can you say it again?”

He repeated the rhyme, slower this time. They walked together in silence for a while as she considered her options, and soon the chaotic gurgle of commerce could be heard resounding through the thinning forest.

“I am…” She quickened her pace, excited to see the emerging shine of shingled roofs reflecting the morning sun.

“I’m…a…” she shook her head and glared at him… _the tricky bastard._

“You are…?” He smirked, his eyes flashing bright blue in the sunlight. 

“There’s no way to win with you is there?” Aaiva sighed.

“Unfortunately not, ma'huarasha.”

 _Huarasha?_ Aaiva felt unreasonably pleased and rolled her eyes; giving in to his trickery. “Fine. I’m a fucking _liar_.”

“You are, indeed,” he brought her fingers to his lips. “A terrible…” he kissed her palm and then grazed her wrist with his teeth “…terrible, _fucking_ liar.”

Hearing him curse sent a strange thrill through her, which intensified the feeling of his mouth on her skin. She smiled through the blush creeping to her ears, and let Solas continue. _Well_ , she consoled herself as he began to examine her hand, _at least she answered one right._


	20. Hop Away, Rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .................................................................................................................................................................................................
> 
> “Solas, I don’t…” the Inquisitor murmured, not sure whether she should demand to help him or thank him for taking on such a huge risk. Before she could think of what do to do, Solas smiled and pressed his palms against her cheeks, pulling her close and planting a firm kiss on her mouth. 
> 
> Aaiva sighed, her hunger and fear temporarily forgotten as she savored the cool brush of his lips. He lingered a moment, letting his teeth slide gently over her bottom lip before pulling away. Aaiva whimpered at the loss of contact, and felt a sudden, sinking fear settle in the pit of her stomach.  
> ................................................................................................................................................................................................

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments / criticism / kudos are appreciated. <3  
> Let me know what you guys think!

The threat of rain loomed heavily in the sky over town, saturating Aaiva’s lungs with moisture. The humidity pressed down on her like a blanket, filling her mouth and nose so that she had to fight for each rattling breath that passed through her lips. As she and Solas navigated the muddy streets, her mood sank like a stone, catalyzed by the clouds smeared overhead in thick gray swathes that cast them in perpetual shadow. 

Thunder rumbled, followed by a bright flash of lightning, and Aaiva felt her palm twitch in response. She shivered as the first drops of rain fell, wondering if she appeared as horrible as she felt as she knocked on a large, iron door. 

While they waited, Aaiva pawed at the limp strands of hair plastered to her cheeks, hoping that it cleared away some of the grit tossed up by the various carts and passersby. As though on cue, a wheelbarrow plowed through a puddle at her feet; covering her clothing with more murky filth right as the door to the supply hold opened.

“Ugh,” A lanky guard shuffled out, rubbing her eyes, “yeah?” 

Her sight went straight to Solas, bypassing Aaiva entirely. 

“Good morning!” Aaiva popped up on her toes and leaned over to make herself seen. The guard jumped back when she noticed the girl; her hand going to the hilt of her sword. Smiling through the grime that coated her face, Aaiva ignored the soldier’s reaction and explained their situation; though, she knew her efforts were futile before she had even finished uttering the first word.

“You’re telling me that you’re the Inquisitor?”

Aaiva nodded, smothering the frustration clawing up her throat with a broad smile. 

“Oi, boys,” the guard snickered, hands on her hips, “look at who has graced us lowly dogs with her _divine_ presence. The _Inquisitor_ , herself!”

“Yeah?” A man appeared, steadily twisting the tips of his mustache, “That little thing? You’re fucking joking!”

“Hah!” A third soldier wandered up, bottle in hand, “another one? How many’s that now?”

“Who can keep count!”

“Tsk, tsk,” the woman crossed her arms, “so, you’re telling me,” she nodded toward Aaiva, “that you, the inquisitor, have come to resupply on behalf of the inquisition with no armor, no weapons,” she held up two fingers, “no party,” she put up another, “and most importantly, no orders or means of identification of any kind?” 

“I _am_ the Inquisitor,” Aaiva pleaded, “really, you have to believe me!”

“Look kid,” the guard raised an eyebrow and bent so that she and Aaiva were eye-to-eye. “We get a dozen of you a week, all claiming to be part of the Inquisitor’s guard if not the Inquisitor themselves. So, I think,” she snickered in Aaiva’s ear, “the odds of you being a lying Dalish _thief_ are a little more in my favor.” 

The guard moved a dripping strand of hair from Aaivas cheek, pinching the tip of her ear and shaking it as she rose to her full height. 

“Yeah,” the man with the bottle spoke up, his voice muffled behind the woman towering in front, “you should hop ‘way, _rabbit_ , ‘afore you get yourself into trouble.”

Aaiva stared at the soldiers in shock. Solas grabbed her hand and muttered, but she couldn’t make out his words over the rage that bubbled in her skull. 

“I’m telling the truth, look! I have the mark.” Her voice was shrill, and she could feel her eyes begin to glaze over with tears as her anger peaked.

“Prove it, then.”

Aaiva focused her energy, sending every modicum of her mana to the mark in one desperate attempt, but all she could manage was a feeble flicker that made the other woman snicker with poorly suppressed laughter.

“Any stupid mage could do that. Now put that away, girl, or we’ll call the Templars.”

“T-Templars?” Aaiva stuttered; her breath catching in her throat. She tried to swallow, but her tongue felt thick in her mouth. For a moment, the world ceased to exist, and Aaiva was only able to sense the deafening roar of her fear as a series of painful memories squeezed her heart and rang in her ears.

Solas brushed the top of her hand with his thumb. The gentle pressure brought Aaiva back to awareness, and she swallowed, shoving her fist into her pocket in a daze.

"That’s right, my sweet. Now, hop along, shoo!"

The door to the hold slammed abruptly, leaving Solas and Aaiva in stunned silence on the busy street. 

Aaiva clenched her jaw and ripped her hand away. “Please,” she shouted, banging at the entrance with both fists, “let us in!”

“Andraste’s tits, woman!” The guard scowled as the door eased open. 

“Alright, I understand how this looks, but please, try to understand…” Aaiva stammered, her voice trembling as a blind desperation lumped in her chest. Thunder rumbled above them and Aaiva’s hand shook; the sensation accompanied by that familiar buzzing sound from her episode in the tree. The mark sparked slightly as Aaiva’s voice rose, and the door swung wide to reveal the trio of guards; swords drawn.

“Hold your fire, mage!”

Aaiva scrambled backwards into the street; knocking into Solas. He grabbed her arms and tugged her promptly to the side; shifting so that he stood between her and the soldiers.

“This is your final warning. If I see head or tail of either of you again, I’ll arrest you myself. Run off to Skyhold with the other mages if you want charity, but you’d better stay the fuck out of here.”

The door slammed shut, the abrupt sound followed by the scraping of a key on the other side. Solas grabbed Aaiva’s shoulders when she lurched forward, and he pulled her back.

“Solas,” Aaiva croaked, her eyes watering, “no!”

She yanked against the hands that held her, but Solas kept a tight grip on her arms; motioning with a tilt of his head that she follow.

“This way,” he murmured as he pulled her into a dark alley beside the supply hold, “I have an idea.”

Crouching down low, he faced her, and Aaiva followed suit; frantically blinking away her tears. Sinking to the ground, she folded herself around her knees; pressing against the empty hollow of her belly. Her stomach rumbled at the contact, and she curled into herself even further to hide the noise.

Solas reached for her left hand, but Aaiva hesitated, expecting another lecture about the mark. Rolling his eyes, he tugged her fingers to his lips, kissing each one before he murmured his plan.

“Would you like to show those ignorant, shem’len fools the kind of thieves we _rabbits_ can be?” His voice tickled her palm, and she hid her confused smile behind her knees.

“Ha, ha, ha,” Aaiva muttered dryly “yes, let’s just waltz in there and show the bastards what’s what.” 

“What’s wrong? Doesn’t my offer tempt you?” A mischievous smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, and Aaiva’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Are you serious?” She stumbled over the words, captivated by the earnestness tucked away in the vivid blue expanse of his eyes. “We can’t just steal from them!”

He chuckled. “And why not? It’s the inquisition’s supply cache. You’re the inquisitor. Do you honestly consider it to be stealing if it is from your own supply?”

A hollow ache pulled at Aaiva’s stomach and she squeezed her knees even harder against herself to stifle its hungry murmurs. “I guess you have a point, but what about those guards? They seemed really serious.”

Solas’ eyes darkened as he answered, “just leave those three to me.” He coaxed the pack from Aaiva’s arm, carefully stowing it away in his own. 

“Solas, I don’t…” she murmured, not sure whether she should demand to help him or thank him for taking on such a huge risk. Before she could think of what do to do, Solas smiled and pressed his palms against her cheeks, pulling her close and planting a firm kiss on her mouth. 

Aaiva sighed, her hunger and fear temporarily forgotten as she savored the cool brush of his lips. He lingered a moment, letting his teeth slide gently over her bottom lip before pulling away. Aaiva whimpered at the loss of contact, and felt a sudden, sinking fear settle in the pit of her stomach.

“No, wait…”

“I’ll be back in a moment, don’t worry,” Solas whispered, rising to his feet.

“But what if they see you?”

Aaiva was breathless, her voice swallowed by the thick wool of Solas’ cloak as he draped it over her shoulders. Another bout of memory pulled at her vision, followed by the faint stench of blood and lavender, and she did her best to smother the ghostly echoes that threatened to devour her entirely.

“You needn’t worry about me, vhenan,” he kissed her cheek and covered her head with the hood of his cloak, “this _rabbit_ isn’t so easily caught.”

She swallowed a nervous lump that rose in her throat as she watched him scale the stony wall; distantly aware of the sensation of her nails as they scraped over her cuticles. _He’ll be back in a moment,_ she mumbled to herself, curling up into a ball in a darkened corner. _He’ll be alright. He’s coming back. Just a moment…_

 

….

 

“Shite, it burns!”

“Oi, fuck! Get the fuckin’—the window!”

Aaiva sat upright, her eyelids bursting open. For a moment, she couldn’t recall where she was, and almost jumped out of her skin upon noticing a darkened figure descending the wall above her. 

“Run!” The shadow hissed, falling to the earth. Aaiva scrambled out of the way, tripping over the long edges of the cloak wrapped around her. Strong hands grabbed her and pulled her to standing, and she stumbled forward and out of the alley.

Behind her, the doors to the supply hold burst open, and the three guards ran screaming into the street.

“Thieves! Apostates!”

Aaiva gasped in horror upon seeing the soldiers, and froze in her tracks. On each of their foreheads, the word ‘shem’ was written in large, flowing script. The man with the mustache led the party, groaning pitifully as he dabbed the red liquid dripping from the letters scrawled across his face. 

“Blood?” Aaiva’s ears rang, and her vision dimmed. “Solas, is that...did you—“

“No time,” Solas tossed Aaiva her pack, “run to the gate and hide. Go!”

He took off towards the soldiers, and Aaiva followed his instruction without another thought; sprinting in the direction he had indicated as quickly as her feet could carry her.

Aaiva burst onto the main street and zipped through crowd gathering in the square. She bumped into several people along the way, and received a number of glares and curses that made her ears burn. She blurted apologies as she ran, but she doubted they could hear her over the screeching of orders and the crash of metal against stone as word spread of their thievery. 

Picking up speed, she ducked into an ally. Crouching behind a short stack of barrels, she put her head between her knees and gasped for air; her efforts to remain quiet causing her lungs to burn and her chest to ache. Once she heard the stomping of boots, she clamped her hands over her mouth and held perfectly still; waiting for the soldiers to pass. 

“Agh, my head! Where’d they fucking go?”

“I saw the girl go this way,” a voice echoed, “hey, _rabbbitttt_ …?”

Two shadows passed by in a rush. “Hopefully the Templars don’t catch ‘em before I get my chance…”

Aaiva allowed a shuddering sigh to escape once the harsh footfalls resounding off of the stone walls receded, and she leaned back against the building behind her in relief. Muck and stray hair clung to her face and neck, and she lifted her chin to welcome the stinging bite of rain as it fell. Wiping her eyes, she took a deep breath and got to her feet; rushing off towards the gate.

“Hey you there, halt!”

Aaiva jumped at the sudden noise and stumbled over the edges of Solas’ cloak. She reached out her arm unthinkingly as she fell, and cried out in pain as her wrist buckled beneath her. The mark pulsed; it’s electric green glare barely dimmed by the sheltering fabric wrapped around her. 

“Mage!” 

Something grabbed her hair, yanking her to her feet, and her bag was ripped from her shoulders. Soldiers appeared at her sides, grabbing her by the arms, and Aaiva noted the Templar insignia etched onto their armor. Rushing forward, she attempted to break their hold, and managed to free herself on one side. The soldier to her left anticipated her movement, however and tightened his grip; twisting her arm forcefully behind her back.

“No!” Aaiva screamed, soaking everyone around her with mud as she kicked and struggled against her captor. “Wait! I’m—”

The icy bite of metal stung her skin as an armored glove wrapped around her neck. Aaiva choked and clawed at the hand, her eyes rolling as she gasped for air. Aaiva moaned as the marked flared; shocking both her and the soldier. With a bellowing roar, the Templar grabbed Aaiva by the roots of her hair and ripped her head back to expose her throat. 

There was an abrupt flash of white and Aaiva went limp; her limbs suddenly heavy and uncoordinated. 

“No, please,” she gasped, her vision blurring around the edges. Her head was yanked further backwards, making her ears ring, and she fought desperately against the waves of nausea that settled over her. 

“Yep, looks like she’s one of ‘em. Her bag’s full of goodies…” 

“I knew it.”

Aaiva was thrown the ground. Mud filled her eyes and mouth, making her sputter and flail wildly. Another flash of white rendered her breathless and immobile once more, and suddenly she was overcome by the memory of lavender and the sound of screams as the world faded to black.


	21. Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A member of the Lavellan clan makes an appearance at Skyhold, demanding answers for the Inquisitor's strange absence. Meanwhile, the Inquisitor worries about Solas' whereabouts, and finds herself in a rather precarious situation. 
> 
> Oh, and a Mabari, because why not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading, and please please please let me know how I'm doing! I love comments/constructive criticism/kudos about anything regarding the story or my style! 
> 
> If you don't remember Tally, you can read about him and his relationship with the Inquisitior in Chapter 3 "Stay with me". 
> 
> Thanks loves, and feel free to follow me on TUMBLR! 
> 
> Translations:
> 
> "Fenedhis" - Wolf dick

“Whaddya mean she’s gone? Gone where? Why?”

There was a flash of movement to his right, and Taloain grasped the hilt of his sword; a low growl rumbling in his throat. A small woman in brightly colored clothing— Josephine, if he recalled correctly—extended a heavily jeweled hand and placed it on his forearm.

I know that you and your…family,” she glanced at the trio of shrouded elves behind him, “must have come a long way. However, you must understand that the Inquisitor’s time is very valuable. She must often leave for weeks at a time in order to satisfy the demands of—“

“Valuable?” Taloain tossed the woman’s hand away and squared his shoulders, his palm never leaving his sword.

“If she’s as precious to your cause as you claim, then why are you lot here? She should be safe, surrounded by the fucking army you have bumbling around outside, not stomping through the mud doing your dirty work. You call yourself her companions, so why are none of you accompanying her? It’s your fucking job, right? Or do you not know what that means, princess?” 

Taloain glared at the woman beside him, his gaze gradually wandering towards the motley crew that had come to witness his audience. Several of them dropped their faces towards the ground, their eyes laden with guilt, and Taloain felt the burning red center of his rage buzz angrily in his skull. 

A man stepped into his line of sight, a Commander something-or-other, and Taloain met his gaze eagerly as he approached. 

“The Inquisitor will be happy to hear of your arrival, once she returns,” a few of those gathered behind the Commander gave each other uneasy looks, catching Taloain’s attention, “and as part of her clan, you are more than welcome to stay until then; however, these missions do take time and…” 

“Taloain drew his sword, the action mirrored instantaneously by the three warriors behind him. The Commander followed suit, pointing his weapon towards the elf’s throat.

“Liars, all of you,” Taloain hissed, pressing himself into the man’s blade slightly so that it drew blood. Focusing his rage on the more reluctant members of the Inquisition, he quickly decided on his prey and tilted his own sword towards a deathly pale human who looked to be on the verge of weeping. 

“What are you hiding, boy,” Taloain growled, “where is my Aaiva really?” 

...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

The soft patter of rain echoed mournfully in the cavernous dungeon beneath the barracks. Drop by drop, the water pressed its way into Aaiva’s cell, muddying the dusty floor and seeping into every fiber of her clothing. Gray sludge clung to her skin, barely covering the fading swathes of purple that stained her arms and legs. Each blast of moist air that crept in through the tiny window above her made her shiver, and she curled into herself, steadily picking at the collar around her neck. 

A muffled groan reverberated through the hall and Aaiva slammed her eyes shut. _It’s not him_ , she fought the waves of panic that danced in the pit of her stomach; _it can’t be him, he got away. He must have._

Then why hadn’t he come for her? 

Aaiva whimpered as the wailing intensified, and pulled futilely at the thick metal band pressing against her throat. 

“Here…”

The scrape of keys against metal caught Aaiva’s attention, followed by the desperate shuffle of knees and elbows as her fellow prisoners scrambled eagerly towards the slop being pushed into their cells.

When the man arrived to her door, she turned away; refusing the meager rations. Clearly frustrated by her lack of interest, the guard tossed her portion onto the growing pile of untouched food at her feet; mumbling something about an “ungrateful bitch” as he finished his rounds.

Once he was past her row, Aaiva immediately scooted back into the darkest corner of her cell and began to count; content with the long silence that followed the guard’s receding footsteps. As expected, several minutes went by before the next sentry passed, and Aaiva smiled to herself; pleased by their predictability. 

_Twelve minutes_ , she bit her lip, _would that be enough time?_

The next guard that passed gave her a pointed look and stationed himself in a chair in front of her door. Rolling her eyes, Aaiva rested her head against the slick stone wall behind her and sighed. Security was picking up—undoubtedly due to her growing reputation around town. If rumor spread half as quickly outside as it did in the prison, she was sure that word of her and Solas’ misadventure had reached as far as Skyhold. Even so, Aaiva didn’t have the time to wait for her advisers to hear the news and send aid; she had business to attend to, and only a few days in which to handle it or…

?em>Don’t think about that, focus!

She pressed her forehead against her knees and ignored the sharp pangs of hunger that seized her belly. _Next meal_ , she promised herself with a small nod, _you’ll be out of here before they even realize you’re gone._

...............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Aaiva lost no time the following day, quietly emerging from her corner once the guard exited the dungeon with his empty tray. The chains around her ankles slipped off with little effort, aided by the slime covering her legs. Darting to the opposite wall, she pressed herself against the bars and eased her shoulder through the horizontal slats, pushing down the black pit of fear rising to her throat. 

“What’re you doing, child?” Chains slithered across the floor and Aaiva was soon confronted by the curious glimmer of her neighbor’s eyes. 

“Shh!” Aaiva huffed, pushing the rest of the air from her lungs as she attempted to squeeze through the bars.

“Haha, another runner,” a bony hand wrapped around the divider between their cells, “they’ll catch you, child…they always do. Besides you won’t get too far with this.” The wrinkled woman gestured towards the collar hanging from the sagging flesh of her neck, equal in every respect to the one digging into Aaiva’s skin, and stifled a throaty cough.

“We’ll see.” 

Aaiva turned away and doubled her efforts to fit between the bars, grinning with satisfaction once her hips were safely past. Angling herself so that the band around her neck was parallel to the iron slats of her cell, she began to guide her head through. 

“Stupid…thing,” she sputtered as the bars scraped against her ears, making the wizened gray face of her neighbor light up in laughter.

“You’ll never make it,” the old woman cackled, “the dogs will rip you apart before you even step foot outside.” 

_Of course they’d have dogs._

Aaiva bit her lip and pulled harder. The cold bite of iron against her cheeks made her vision blur, but she ignored her discomfort, distantly aware of the metallic warmth filling her mouth as her face slid through the bars.

“Ahh!” She freed herself with a groan, quickly tugging her leg through to the other side. Too afraid of being caught to relish the victory of her escape, she stumbled towards the exit; disregarding the frantic whispers coming from the neighboring cells. 

“Good luck!” the old woman’s throaty cackle sounded through the hall, “you’ll need it, _Inquisitor_.” 

.....................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

“Solas?” Aaiva wheezed, darting from room to room as she made her way through the prison. Thunder rumbled in response, dulling the frantic rasp of her breathing as she tried to navigate the maze of darkened halls. 

“Solas, are you here?” She ran up a set of narrow stairs and into a storeroom, narrowly avoiding a pair of guards as they passed on their rounds. Realizing what she had stumbled into, Aaiva couldn’t believe her luck, and began to search for her belongings. 

She found her pack quickly. It, along with Solas’ cloak and what she could only assume to be the food that he had taken from the Inquisition’s supply, was laid out neatly on a wide table. On the far corner, she saw her map—a little worse for wear, but intact, and next to it Aaiva noticed the faded scarlet bindings of her book.

_Thank the creators!_

She felt relieved that the Templars seemed, if nothing else, to be an honest lot when it came to categorizing evidence, and shoved everything she could into her bag in a rush. 

Rifling through the various chests bordering the room, she searched for any sign of Solas’ pack, but came up empty. 

Clutching the center of her chest, Aaiva breathed a sigh of relief and sank to the floor in a grateful heap. Her happiness was short-lived however, and her throat constricted painfully as she considered his possible whereabouts. 

A muffled cry made her freeze, and she felt a horrific dread squeeze her heart. Fearing the worst, Aaiva ran into the hall without another thought. 

“Solas?” she whispered, edging towards the stairs. Another howling wail sounded moments later, followed a crash of thunder, and she flew up the steps in a dead sprint; desperate to find the source the noise. 

“Solas, is that you?”

She rounded a corner, her heart sinking as another cry echoed off of the walls.

“Solas, I—ah!” Bursting through the doorway at the top of the stairs, she ran into something solid that sent her careening backwards and onto the ground in a breathless heap.

“A-Aaiva, no…”

Solas’ raspy moan sent waves of relief through the girl, but her happiness crumbled to nothing as a terrible laugh filled the room. Reaching out from the shadows, a hand grasped Aaiva by her shirt, lifting her to her feet.

“Well, well. If it isn’t our little rabbit. I didn’t realize they had caught you too. We could have played together, tsk tsk.”

Aaiva’s vision dimmed as the icy torrent of her fear trickled down her neck. To her left, a towering figure emerged from the darkness, and she could see the white edge of a bandage wrapped around her head. 

_Not again, not them…_

Aaiva screamed as something wet nudged her legs. There was a loud bark, and suddenly Aaiva’s pack was ripped from her shoulders; its contents spilling to the ground. 

_So they really do have dogs._

“Sit down you fucking useless beast!” 

There was a loud smack, followed by an earsplitting howl that made Aaiva’s hair stand on end. The man that had grabbed her threw her towards the chair where Solas sat, and began to beat the massive animal mercilessly. His companions quickly joined in, kicking and snarling until it shook with fear; making Aaiva sick to her stomach. 

Regaining her composure, she turned to find the exit. On the opposite side of the room, she noticed a large iron door. Next to it, hanging on a hook, was a ring of keys. _Her way out!_

A muffled cry got her attention, and she turned quickly to see the dog cowering next to her, gently licking Solas’ arms. Solas quietly protested the dogs attentions, mumbling bizarre nonsense that made Aaiva’s throat constrict in fear. She had never seen him in such a state, so incredibly vulnerable and weak, and her desire to escape crackled like fire beneath her skin. The dog whimpered just as a blast of thunder shook the room, and realizing that the source of the guard’s distraction was gone, Aaiva glanced up in horror to see three pairs of eyes staring at her in interest. 

“Planning on going somewhere, sweetheart?” 

The dog growled as they approached, warranting another kick from the mustached man. Solas’ head fell limply to the side as they knocked his chair over, and Aaiva felt herself lose all grasp of reason.

“Please don’t hurt us!” She did the only thing that made sense, and tossed herself at the trio, grabbing the female guard by her ankles. The woman automatically kicked her away, and Aaiva made a show of falling forcefully onto the scattered contents of her pack. A sharp jab to her thigh let her know she landed perfectly, and she hid her excitement with a shuddering cry.

“Please! Let him go, don’t you see he’s hurt?” 

Aaiva pulled at her hair and gestured forcefully at Solas’ limp form, quickly grabbing hold of the large red book splayed out on the ground. 

“Please, I’ll do anything,” She rose to her feet, holding the tome behind her back, “whatever you want, just let him go!”

“We don’t make deals with liars and thieves,” muttered the woman towering over her, and Aaiva forced tears to come to her eyes.

“Please…” she stumbled forward and grasped the woman’s arm with her free hand, making the two other guards snicker, “I’ll be good, I won’t tell anyone. Please…I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” 

The mustached guard came forward and whispered into her ear, making bile rise to Aaiva’s throat. Quashing her disgust, she nodded her head vigorously, and forced a small smile to her lips. 

“Whatever you desire, my lord, just…untie my companion, please, he’s hurt.” 

The man looked at his cohorts eagerly, and yanked Solas up to sitting. The other guards watched him work with interest and laughed when he shooed the nearby dog away with a series of foul curses, giving Aaiva plenty of time to find and stuff her tattered map into her pocket. Gathering her courage, she edged closer to the group, mentally preparing herself for what she knew was inevitable. As soon as the last of Solas’ chains clattered to the ground, Aaiva was upon them, beating them with the heavy corner of her book.

Before the tall woman had the sense to fight back, she was falling to the ground in a heap, knocking over the man behind her as she stumbled. Aaiva gave the man a firm kick to the groin, completing her attack by smacking him in the nose with her book. 

Rushing towards Solas, she quickly fell upon the cowering form of the mustached guard. Before she could make contact however, the dog leaped between them; growling furiously at the man and causing him to fall back. The woman was the mabari's next target, and the hound jumped onto her chest; snarling and yapping inches from her nose as she tried to stand up.

“Get it off, help!” 

The woman’s cries went unanswered as her companions cowered behind her. Aaiva’s body reacted its own accord, and she frantically began to pull Solas towards the door. Days without food had left her weak, however, and she found herself exhausted after just a few steps. 

Grabbing the keys, she quickly shoved the first into the lock, but it didn’t fit. The same was true of the second and third, and Aaiva felt the last dredges of her strength begin to dissipate as the guards began to threaten the dog that was, for whatever reason, trying to help her. The sound of footsteps in the hall alerted her to the approach of more guards and she panicked; dropping the keys to the ground.

“Fenedhis!”

Her voice shook, and she picked up the ring; noticing for the first time a large silver key in the center. Please work, she muttered as she jammed it into the lock, and her heart sang in relief when it turned and the door opened wide.

Heaving Solas onto her shoulders as best she could, she stumbled out of keep and onto the muddy street. For the first time in her life, Aaiva thanked the gods for the horrendous storm that darkened the sky and dulled her groans of effort as she stomped towards freedom. The city gate was close, only yards away, and Aaiva felt a tiny twinge of hope dance in her belly; giving her one final burst of adrenaline that allowed her slosh out of the muddy town without so much as a glance back. 

Aaiva walked for what felt like hours, though she knew only minutes had passed. About half a mile outside of town, she noticing the sheltering hollow of a dying oak. With a strangled groan, she fell to her knees; unable to go any further. Dragging Solas into the tree, she let her head fall onto his chest, and fell into an exhausted and dreamless slumber.


	22. Mabari: A girl's best friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inquisitor Lavellan finds herself barely able to cope without her magic. Solas wakes up from his time in prison in a strange mood.
> 
> Oh, and our Mabari friend makes another (perhaps permanent <3 ) appearance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love feedback, let me know how I'm doing!!!!!!!!!
> 
> If you have suggestions or comments, let me know!  
> <3

Aaiva had been staring at the book she had managed to sneak out of the prison since dawn; desperate for understanding and searching for answers to her and Solas’ predicament in every page of text. The ancient words, once clear to her eyes, were nothing more than a jumbled and faded mess of letters. Each spell evaded her grasp, their functions distorted beyond any hope of recognition—even the recipes, such as the one used to help heal Solas days ago, were senseless and devoid of all meaning. 

A sudden nudge against her thigh disrupted Aaiva’s concentration. Looking down, she was confronted by the large, tawny eyes of the dog from town. 

“Shoo! Go away! Go home!”

The dog jabbed her again, and sat on its hind legs. When Aaiva turned back to her book, the animal whined and brushed her leg with his massive paws. 

“What now?”

The dog whimpered and pressed his head against Aaiva’s thigh. Ignoring his pleas for attention, the girl resumed her futile studies. After a moment, however, his paw entered her line of sight; coming to rest on top of the page she had been trying to decipher. 

“What do you want?” 

The dog wagged his tail, the appendage thumping heavily against the ground.

“What? To play? Play with this!” she hissed, “it’s useless anyway.”

In a fit of frustration, the girl threw the book as far as she could, her mask of anger almost dissolved by the excitement that danced in the animal’s eyes. Steeling herself against the fuzzy warmth that grew in her belly upon seeing the dog chase after the tome, she crossed her arms and studied Solas’ unconscious form. 

Once her book was found, the dog barked, tucking it into his mouth and prancing back to Aaiva’s side. 

“Ugh," she wiped his slobber off onto her shirt, "good boy. Now go fetch us some food or something useful.” 

The dog whined, dropping down onto his forelegs in an awkward bow and wagging his tail with furious abandon. The noise caused Solas to stir, his head tossing in Aaiva’s lap. For several moments, she watched the elf intently, making sure to hold perfectly still. Eventually, he became calm, and Aaiva breathed a soft sigh of relief. 

“It looks like we will have to do this the old-fashioned way,” she whispered, directing her words at her newfound companion’s eager eyes. When she looked up, however, the dog was nowhere to be seen; and she wondered if he had finally grown enough sense to go back to his owner. The thought made her chest ache, and she sighed; gently shifting so that Solas rested on the ground. 

Upon exiting the cramped safety of their tree, Aaiva stretched; lifting her hands to the sky. Kicking away leaves and mud, she cleared a spot for a fire. As she stumbled around the edges of her makeshift camp, Aaiva searched for dry wood and other bits of kindling; tossing everything she found in a pile outside of the hollow where Solas lay. With her supplies by her side, she set to work, and began the arduous process of making a fire without magic.

Hours seemed to pass while Aaiva attempted to light her meager pile of sticks. Eventually, her efforts yielded some progress; a dense cloud of smoke dulling her vision and causing her lungs to constrict. Ignoring the cramps in her fingers, she fought to maintain her pace, and was awarded with the emergence of red and yellow traces of flame. 

“Yes….yes! Burn baby!” Aaiva blew gently against the tiny spark that flared out from her pile of twigs. Once the flicker grew into a crackling fire, Aaiva jumped to her feet; shaking her fists in the air. 

“Beautifully done” a hoarse voice called out, “you’re a veritable goddess of flame.”

Aaiva spun on her heels, stopping midway through her dance. Leaning against the hollow of the tree was Solas; his face unnervingly pale even in the forgiving light of midday. Even for his pallid appearance, however, the hint of a smile danced in his eyes; lifting his mouth and dimpling his cheeks. 

“You’re awake,” Aaiva fell to her knees, caught between an indescribable joy that he was conscious and shame that she had likely been the one to wake him, “how do you feel?”

“Horrible,” Aaiva felt her heart drop, “no doubt due my new _friends_ in town and this…apparatus.” 

Solas grumbled something inaudible, tugging at the metal ring around his neck, and Aaiva’s fingers drifted up to her own. 

“I know. The Templars…” she began, unsure of how to explain. Solas nodded when she faltered, understanding clear in his eyes, and Aaiva sighed. 

“I am so, very sorry, Aaiva,” The blue in his eyes darkened, prompting the girl forward, “I didn’t expect any of this to happen. I never should have encouraged such reckless behavior. I was a fool, I—“ 

“Shhh,” she murmured, caressing the pallid hollow of his cheek, “I should be the one apologizing. We never should’ve have come out here in the first place. I am the one to blame. I created this mess, and you had to suffer for it.”

“No, vhenan” He shook his head, his hands flying up to press her palm firmly against his face, “it is not your fault. Do not be so eager to place blame on yourself. Besides, you saved us, after all.” 

Solas shifted, coming to rest on his knees. Aaiva watched in perplexed fascination as he scooted nearer to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders in an uncharacteristic display of affection.

Tucking a strand of wayward hair behind her ear, he whispered, “if nothing else, we can call it a necessary twist of fate—the inevitable low that precedes the high on any great adventure. Without this experience to act as a comparison, we would never fully enjoy the good that must undoubtedly come later.” 

He rested his head on her shoulder a moment before pulling back, and Aaiva had to fight in order to keep herself composed. Meeting her gaze, he shot her a bright smile, but his sudden absence made Aaiva’s throat ache, and she fell into him; letting a few tears fall unchecked onto his shirt.

“You sound like you’re enjoying this,” she sniffed, picking at a loose thread on his hem.

“I suppose I am, in a way.” He let his fingers trickle through her hair, and Aaiva shivered at the sensation. “I get to be with you, after all, and have you all to myself; if only for a little while.” 

Leaves rustled in the distance, followed by the rhythmic thud of heavy paws against the earth. Rolling her eyes, Aaiva turned to meet the noise head on.

“Hmm, you’re back, I see. Couldn’t find the way to town?”

She was answered by a bark, and out of the dark forest sprang a large mass of brown fur and gleaming teeth. Leaping onto her chest, the dog drowned her in sloppy kisses.   
Aaiva fell beneath the animal’s weight, knocking into Solas in the process.

“Who is this…?” Solas was interrupted by a heavy thud. Looking down, Aaiva noticed the bloody carcass of a squirrel. Though its neck was twisted and mangled, the rest looked alright to eat, and she stared at the dog in surprise.

_He actually did it._

“Did you do this?” Aaiva murmured in delight. “Is this for us?”

The dog barked and rolled onto his back; flopping lazily back and forth. Aaiva took the hint and rubbed the animal’s exposed belly. 

“Good boy!” she turned towards Solas, who was staring at the dog in shock, “Look at what he brought. We can finally eat!”

“But…” Solas’ eyes darted from her to the dog, “where did he come from?” 

He eased a hand towards the animal, who licked it sloppily.

“He followed us from town, don’t you remember? He was there when I found you. Isn’t he wonderful?”

The dog flopped onto her lap, his legs dangling over hers. Panting, he looked eagerly at Aaiva, making the girl giggle and rub his ears in appreciation. The animal returned her affection with a slobbery lick on the cheek that made her squint her eyes and fall back into Solas’ chest. Even though his presence left the girl reeking of filth and wet dog, Aaiva wrapped her arms around him anyway; not perturbed by his smelly presence in the slightest.


	23. Living On A Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inquisitor Lavellan tells Solas a secret, and he helps her come up with a way to move forward considering the results of their recent arrest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I love comments / kudos -- let me know what you think!!! 
> 
> <3

Aaiva wasn’t one for praying, as horrible as it seemed for someone in her position. She, as previous First to the Keeper, was well versed in all of the major proverbs, lore, and rituals when it came to honoring the gods; however, expressing her religion through prayer had never been a priority, and was seen more as a duty required by her station than a way to connect with the creators.

This night, however, as the sky darkened and the first glimmering pinpricks of light shot out from the stars, Aaiva found herself praying; the fervor in her words increasing as the nearly full moon brightened the heavens and bathed her skin in its silvery glow.

_Mythal, all-mother, protector…please help me. Give me a sign…what do I do?_

Perspiration beaded on Aaiva’s forehead, dripping from her hair and stinging her eyes. Clutching her book to her chest, she curled into herself; her cheeks coming to rest between her knees. 

_Please, goddess, know my heart. Guide me, show me the way. What do I do?_

“Keep still,” a gentle yank against her scalp brought Aaiva back up to sitting, but soon the girl was leaning forward once again; her mind so focused on reciting her prayer that she was deaf to Solas’ reprimands.

“…Aaiva?” 

“Huh? Sorry.” The girl jumped to attention, her head flying back so that Solas could continue his attentions to her hair. 

“Are you falling asleep?” A soft laugh filled the clearing where they sat, the musical sound rising swiftly over them and dissipating once it hit the leafy canopy above. 

“No,” Aaiva shook her head, the motion warranting another tug from Solas, “I’m just…thinking.”

“Hmm,” Aaiva could hear the echo of a smile as he spoke, “they must be deep thoughts to keep you so quiet. What is it that is on your mind?”

Solas grabbed another section of hair, his fingers running through the tangled mess several times before he resumed his braiding. 

“I uh…” she began, debating on whether it would be wise to share her thoughts. Her brain grew cloudy and muddled as she argued with herself, though, and she quickly gave in to her tongue’s hasty command. 

“Do you believe in the gods?”

The hands in her hair stopped their attentions, and Aaiva felt an eerie silence rest over them as though the entire forest was holding its breath. After a moment, Solas’ skilled fingers resumed their work, though the laughter in his voice was gone.

“I do,” he murmured, “though I do not believe they existed in the manner indicated by modern legend.”

“What do you mean?” Aaiva furrowed her brows, her eyes never leaving the silver orb that lit the sky with its dazzling shine. 

“Though mighty beings in their time, I am certain that they were rather… _similar_ …to the people now—each with their own faults and weaknesses. I do not agree with the idea of the gods as all powerful, omniscient beings. I cannot, for it would make their fall nearly impossible to comprehend.” 

Aaiva nodded her head. His logic made sense, though it conflicted with much that she had been raised to believe. As she tightened her hold on the book against her chest, the girl blinked away the tears stinging her eyes.

“Do you think they hear us when we call to them? When we pray?” her voice trembled, revealing the depth of her emotion as she solemnly added, “do you think they even care?”

“ _I…_ ” the hands in her hair stopped again, and Aaiva let her head fall to her knees so that her leggings could catch the wetness that trickled down her cheeks. 

“I don’t think I can answer that, vhenan.”

She would have laughed had she not been in such a deplorable mood. It was the first time she had seen him without an answer, and was, therefore, a momentous occasion. However, as the weight of her burden pressed itself fully on her heart, Aaiva found herself unraveling, dissolving into a fit of despair so profound it left her shaking.

“Then…” she faltered, her grief distorting the words, “what do I do?”

Feeling claustrophobic, Aaiva grabbed the ring around her neck and pulled; making her eyes water as she gasped for air, “if there are no gods to hear me or to care, then what can I do? Who will help me?” With a choking sob, she turned to face Solas; ripping her hair from his grip in the process. 

For a solemn moment the pair regarded each other, each passing second an eternity to Aaiva’s frazzled nerves. In her frustration, the girl let the book in her arms fall to the ground, and she made to kick it into the fire.

“ _I_ will.” Solas grabbed her ankle as she moved, keeping her from being able to make contact with the tome, “tell _me_ your worries, _I_ will help you!” 

His sincerity was so overwhelming that Aaiva lost her breath; her chest constricted by the tempestuous wave of emotion that flooded her heart. 

_Tell him_ , her brain begged, _just do it! Give it up, already!_

“You…?” she faltered, peering around the dark forest as though the trees were trying to listen in on her secret, “you promise not to tell anyone?

“Of course not,” Solas whispered, leaning in towards her, “I will guard your secrets as though they were my own.”

She didn’t need much convincing. She had been carrying the weight of her problem alone for years, and had finally reached the end of her rope. 

“I think,” she swallowed, doing her best to ignore the warning that buzzed in her ears, “I think I’m in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” A look of concern wrinkled the skin around his eyes and his grip on her ankle tightened. Covering her mouth to stifle a sob, the girl picked up the book at her feet and tossed it next to Solas.

“I can’t,” she sputtered through her fingers, “read it….I need…help…I can’t…I can’t…” 

Aaiva burst into tears, her cries turning into full-fledged sobs of distress as he leafed through the tome. No one, apart from herself, had looked through the book before, not while it had been in her possession, and the girl felt a prickling fear dance up her spine. The worry in his eyes quickly shifted towards interest as he perused each page, and Aaiva had to curl into herself to stifle the pangs of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. 

“Who gave this to you?” His voice was barely a whisper, the sound quickly drowned out by the fire crackling nearby. Aaiva shook her head in response, refusing to answer. 

Thankfully, Solas didn’t linger on the question.

“Why would you need to read this?”

“A ritual,” her voice cracked, and she sunk her head further into her arms, “but I waited too long, and now…and now…” 

A shuddering breath kept her from continuing, and, foregoing words completely, she pulled futilely against the metal ring clasped around her neck.

“What kind of ritual?” His voice, though low, was firm, and Aaiva watched fearfully as his eyes darkened into a cloudy gray that demanded she speak the truth.

“I don’t know,” she cried out, sobs ripping their way from her throat, “she just…showed me the spell and…and when to do it.”

“She?” Solas shook his head and snapped the book shut, his voice rising, “Is this why you were going to the temple? For this ritual?” 

Aaiva nodded, “I promised, I owe her…I have to.” 

The girls eyes lowering in shame as Solas regarded her, his silence prompting her to continue, “but I…can’t read it…” she huffed, her cries muffled by her knees, “or …perform it without…magic, and now…and now…”

Strong arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders. Murmuring reassurances in her ear, Solas gathered the girl up and held her to his chest; his gentle words influencing another bout of tears.

“We came…all this…way. I tried…so…hard, but the Templars…”

“I know,” he rocked her back and forth, “I know.”

“I can’t do…anything…with this collar,” she pressed her forehead against his shoulder, “and it won’t…come off…what do I…do?” 

“Well,” Solas leaned away, and Aaiva sniffed as he wiped her cheeks with his thumbs, “I think the answer is clear. We must get them taken off. Then you can do your ritual.”

“B-but how? Without…a Templar it’s…impossible.”

“Yes,” Solas nodded, his hands drifting from her face to her hair, “but we know a Templar, do we not?”

Aaiva nodded reluctantly, her face twisting as more tears threatened to fall, “but even if he agrees to take them off, we won’t make it back to the temple in time. It’s too far.” 

“What do you mean?”

It must be done on the harvest moon, in a holy place; a temple or shrine,” reaching into her pocket, Aaiva pulled out her large, faded map, “that’s only a few days away, and this is the closest temple for miles and miles, look!”

Solas examined the parchment, his eyes shifting back and forth as he read. 

“No,” he murmured, a small smile coming to his lips, “this map is not correct.”

Aaiva crossed her arms, “It is. It has to be.” 

“No,” Solas shook his head and grinned. “What of Geldauran? Daern’thal?” Forgotten and loathed as they may be, their temples are just as sacred as those of Mythal or Sylaise. One in particular I know is even closer than this temple.” 

“Where?”

“Near Skyhold. At the base of the mountains.” His voice shook, though the fault in his speech was so small that Aaiva was unsure if she actually heard it, “once we get these collars off, I can take you there.”

...................................................................................................................................................

Aaiva crossed their arms as she and Solas came upon a tall gate. The summer sun, which had shone so warmly when she had left Skyhold, felt distant and cold as it illuminated the silver stone which made up the Inquisition’s home in the mountains. The cool whisper of a breeze trickled over her skin and tugged at the tattered edges of her clothing; alerting the girl to autumn’s inevitable arrival and the subsequent death of summer. Skirting the shadows created by the ramparts, Aaiva adjusted her clothing; her fingers brushing rhythmically against the weathered binding of the book in her arms. It felt heavy, almost as heavy as her heart as she stomped grudgingly back towards the cage she had so longed to escape—gilded and beautiful as it may be.

“I don’t want to go back.” 

Aaiva’s voice was small, barely a murmur over the wailing of the breeze through the mountains. From behind her, Solas shuffled up to the gate, his face pale and wan. Noting the nature of his injuries, Aaiva couldn’t help but compare his current state to the moment all those weeks ago that she had caught him following her from Skyhold as she stormed away. The thought made her throat constrict; the sensation made worse by the icy bite of metal as the collar around her neck shifted.

“I know, vhenan,” Solas whispered, his arm snaking around her waist, “but we must. Take heart, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Yes, but—“her voice caught in her throat. The idea of returning to a sea of whispers and hostile faces made her skin crawl; not to mention the verbal beating she was sure to endure when Cullen got her alone. Seeing no other option, the girl shook away the tears that sprang to her eyes, and knocked on the front gate.


	24. Touching Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inquisitor Lavellan is forced to ask Commander Cullen for help in escaping the Templar's Collar. In her search for him, she meets Kieran, the son of Morrigan, and has a strange encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, comments/criticism/kudos are very much appreciated!!!
> 
> Let me know how I'm doing! :)

Aaiva was grateful for the long black shadows that concealed her and Solas as they made their way into Skyhold. By ducking around corners and keeping her head low to the ground, the girl did her best to conceal her face and dull the shine of the collar around her neck. The dog, who seemed to be taking the hint, followed behind them silently; his bright eyes downcast as though he felt Aaiva’s reluctance to return as acutely as she. 

Taking a rarely used stairway up to the ramparts, Aaiva navigated their way to Cullen’s office. The soldiers they passed gave her odd looks, though, judging by their blank eyes and lack of formality, they were unaware of her identity. Ignoring their stares and wrinkled noses, Aaiva continued on her path; pretending that their looks of shock and unease weren’t for her and Solas, but rather aimed towards the large, slobbering dog that shuffled along behind them. 

_He must be quite a sight_ , she told herself unconvincingly, _he’s almost as tall as me and twice as wide._

Slowing her pace, she gave the animal a gentle pat on the head. He nudged her hand forcefully when she pulled away and nipped at her fingers. 

“Good dog”, she murmured as the corners of her mouth fell into a deep frown, “good boy.” 

Once they found Cullen’s office, Aaiva hugged the book she was carrying close to her chest and gave the door a stiff knock, but there was no answer. After several moments of silence, Aaiva repeated the action, and once more she was greeted by quiet.

_Please, not today._

Aaiva rapped her knuckles against the aging wood until her hand ached and the motion sent vibrations down the length of her arm. 

“Cullen,” she whined, “please, open up!” 

“The Commander ain’t here.”

A flash of silver danced in Aaiva’s periphery, the movement followed by a sudden hiss as a sword was placed over the doorframe. 

“Hey! Wha—“ she began as she turned to face the speaker, but the cold bite of metal against her flesh made her stutter as she took in the image of a bearish man grimacing over her. 

Aaiva heard Solas swear, but the sound was muted by the heavy growl of the dog from behind. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the animal creeping forward, hackles raised, but Solas wrapped his arm around the creature’s neck in an attempt to hold him back. The sight of the dog seemed to have little effect on the soldier holding Aaiva, however, and only made him tighten his grip on her shoulder.

“The Commander ain’t here,” the man repeated, “you need’ta find the rest o’ your group ‘nd stop causing trouble. You’re disturbin’ the peace ‘round here.” 

“Trouble? I…”

“Don’t think fer one minute that I didn’t see what you ‘nd your little friends did in the yard. Displays like that won’t get’ya anywhere here. Now go on. The Commander ain’t here.”

The man shoved Aaiva back hard enough that she dropped the book in her arms and stumbled into Solas. Taking another look at the dog, the man rolled his eyes and went on his way, mumbling under his breath all the while. Once the shock of her encounter had worn off, Aaiva got to her feet and faced her companions. 

“What was that about?” Her voice shook as she spoke, the pitch rising unnaturally as she tried to process what had just occurred.

“I have not the slightest idea. I…” Solas shook his head and relaxed his grip on the thrashing dog. Noting his freedom, the animal took the opportunity to circle the pair; barking wildly at every soldier that bothered to make eye contact. 

“What do we do?” Aaiva stooped to gather the book. “Cullen could be anywhere.”

“Yes, and Skyhold is rather large.” Eyelashes fluttering, Solas wrapped his arms around her waist and tucked his face into the hollow of her neck. 

Aaiva’s heart jumped at his sudden affection, but her excitement was dulled by the heat radiating off of his skin. Pushing him back, the girl shoved the book into his arms and ran her hands over his temples.

“You have a fever.”

Solas closed his eyes, but didn’t try to deny her assertion. 

“How long have you been like this?”

The words came out harsh, as though it were an accusation of some sort, and Aaiva had to fight the tears that rushed to her eyes when he didn’t respond.

_That explains why he’s so pale._

“Come on.” She snatched her book away, grabbed the mage’s hand and interlaced their fingers. “Let’s go look in the courtyard. We need to get these off.”

“Wait,” Solas murmured, pressing his forehead onto hers, “if we split up we can cover ground more efficiently.”

“But…” Aaiva wanted to argue, to persuade him to stay with her for support in case she was recognized by anyone and forced into an unwanted conversation, but he was right. Her discomfort aside, Skyhold was enormous, and there were too many places for someone to hide for them to be successful in looking for the Commander as a group.

“Fine." She gave him a chaste kiss on the nose. "Let’s meet in an hour to regroup. Sound alright?” 

“Yes.” Solas nodded, his eyelids drooping as he spoke. “One hour.”

Shaking her head, she walked off towards the courtyard. 

_Stupid man._

“You’re the inquisitor.”

_Shit._

“Huh?” 

Startled, Aaiva tucked the book behind her back and whirled towards the speaker, annoyance written all over her face as her search for Cullen was halted. Directly beside her stood a child, a human, no more than ten or eleven years of age, with a thick mass of dark hair. 

“Mother never told me the inquisitor was an elf.”

_Who the fuck is your mother, kid?_

Aaiva rolled her eyes and attempted to keep her voice level as she responded. “Hm. The ears gave me away, didn’t they?”

“No.” The child looked at her earnestly with large, amber eyes. “Your blood. It’s very old, the same as mine. I saw it right away.”

_That’s weird, kid._

“She didn’t tell me the inquisitor was a mage, either.”

“Oh yeah?” Aaiva stalled as she scanned the courtyard for signs of the Commander. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No!” He shook his head and took a step closer. “It would be worse if you could not touch magic at all. Like being blind.” The child shuddered and hung his head. “Father was blind before. But his blood changed. It holds magic like ours. It sings to him—“

“Kieran!” 

Aaiva lifted her head in time to see Morrigan appear in the doorway of a room adjacent to the courtyard, a strange mixture of curiosity and fear dancing across her face as she rushed towards them.

“Kieran, are you bothering the Inquisitor?” The scrape of boots against gravel punctuated her question, and the child was quick to shake his head.

“Of course not.” The boy smiled and took Aaiva’s hand. “Have you seen what’s on her palm, mother? Can you see her blood?”

_Mother?_ Aaiva’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I did see.” Morrigan gave Aaiva an uneasy glance, and knelt to face the child. 

“’Tis time to return to your studies, little man.”

Kieran tightened his grip on Aaiva’s hand and sighed. “But Mother, can’t you see—“

“Go.” The woman shooed her son away, and he shuffled away towards the room that Morrigan had just left; his head hanging low.

“I apologize for my son. He’s never where you expect him to be, naturally.” 

Aaiva watched the child disappear beyond the doorway. “I didn’t know you had a son.” 

“Why would you?” The other woman responded quickly, “I take great pains to not let my own reputation affect him in any way. To most in the imperial court, he’s simply a quiet and well-spoken lad. Perhaps the heir of some distant family. But he goes where I go. Worry not, Inquisitor—Kieran is a curious boy, but seldom troublesome.”

Aaiva nodded, and let her eyes wander back towards the edges of the garden. “Kieran mentioned his father. Will he be joining us, as well?”

Morrigan tilted her head and flashed Aaiva an odd smile as she responded. “His father is a warden, you may know him as the Hero of Ferelden. A lofty title, but one he wears well.”

Aaiva felt her ears burn in sudden interest. _A warden?_

“That sounds familiar, but I’m not very well read in human history. I’m afraid to say that I know little about him, sorry.”

“He isn’t human,” she purred as a mysterious smile lifted the corners of her mouth, “but no matter. He is gone on a quest to combat the calling—the signal to the end of a warden’s life. If he is successful, it will mean a long life for him…perhaps for them all.”

The words escaped before Aaiva could think about them. “Really? That’s wonderful!”

_What if…_

She pushed her hope away. “I mean, if he is successful, it could bring a lot of families back together.”

“Once Corypheus has been defeated, I fully intend to join him once more. Kieran misses him greatly.” 

“Why didn’t you go with him?”

There was a momentary pause, and Aaiva felt her attention begin to waver.

“Because where he went, Kieran could not follow, and thus I remained behind to look after our son. No doubt it is similar for most who are affected by the Warden’s plight.”

A shuddering bout of memory of burst to the forefront of Aaiva’s mind, but she shoved it down; gagging all the while on the stale scent of lavender and the salty brine of tears. 

Clearing her throat, she quickly changed the subject. “Uh, have you seen Commander Cullen around?”

Morrigan nodded. “He was headed towards the chapel, last I saw him.”

Aaiva shot her a brief smile. “It was, uh, nice talking with you Morrigan. See you later, alright?” 

The other woman nodded, and Aaiva clutched the book to her chest as she dashed off towards the chapel.

“Commander Cullen?” 

Aaiva took a hesitant step into the darkened entrance of the room. Of all of the unexplored places in Skyhold, Aaiva considered the chapel to be the last on her list to visit. Andraste, even as the primary component of Aaiva’s newfound status in Thedas, held little interest for the girl. She was, to Aaiva at least, a symbol of suffering for the mages of the world; a reason for the terror, the institution that bound mages beneath the heels of the ungrateful majority who were either too fearful or ignorant to understand, and the very reason she had been subject to the events at the Conclave from the start.

“Commander.”

Skirting around the candles sprinkling the stone floor, she made her way to a kneeling figure shrouded in shadow and fur. Extending her hand, she gave the armored man a hesitant tap on the shoulder, but he remained still; a hitch in his breath the only sign that he had registered Aaiva’s presence.

Giving him the space he obviously desired, Aaiva took a step back and waited for his prayers to be over. Once the man rose to his feet, she darted towards him; her request coming out in a babbling rush.

“Commander, I, uh, ran into some trouble. I need your help. You see…” She came to stand directly beside him and tugged at the collar around her neck. “I, well Solas and I, we were going—“

“Hello to you, too, Inquisitor. I’m glad to see you’ve returned in one piece. You have several visitors in your court who will be happy to see you as well.”

_Visitors?_

The man smirked and turned to face Aaiva. Even in the dim light of the chapel, the girl could tell something was wrong. Pale and stiff as the surrounding stone, the Commander regarded her with swollen eyes—the inflamed skin a testament to many nights of restless sleep—and led her to sit on a nearby bench. 

“Commander I—“

“You’re looking rather worse for wear.” 

_Hah. There’s the pot calling the kettle black._

The man pulled a flask from his hip and took a long drink. The sour stench of alcohol wafted out from the bottle, and Aaiva wrinkled her nose at the strong smell.

“Yes, well I’ve run into some trouble, and I was wondering if you could…”

“Trouble?” 

The Commander’s voice took a sharp turn, and he leaned in towards Aaiva.

“I take it Templars were involved in this trouble, then?”

Aaiva nodded, and girded herself for the verbal beating she was sure to receive. “We, uh, needed supplies.” Her breath hitched as the Commander came closer. “We had a run-in with some guards. They called the Templars, and…well.”

She tugged at the collar once more, surprised at how little the man reacted. Either he had become very good at hiding his frustration while she had been away, or he wasn’t surprised that it had happened in the first place. 

“Did they do this to you, as well?”

Cullen reached towards her face, and Aaiva instinctively flinched. His hand fell almost as quickly as it was raised, and he repeated the question, his voice low and measured, but before Aaiva could respond, dark eyes caught her own; holding her captive beneath the force of his glare. 

“What are their names?” His eyes danced between the marks on her face and the ring around her neck.

Completely caught off-guard by the sudden anger in his voice, Aaiva sputtered a half-hearted “I don’t know”, her gaze dropping to the floor when the weight of his scrutiny proved too much. There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence as Aaiva waited for the man to speak—the quiet broken only by the tap of Cullen’s finger against the flask in his hand, and the occasional sound of the liquid passing through his lips. Eventually, the Commander rose to his feet and took a tottering step behind Aaiva.

“Hold still,” Cullen muttered with a huff, but his command was drowned out by the clanging of metal. Something cold brushed against her neck, and Aaiva whipped her head around unthinkingly to face him.

“Still.” He breathed against her neck, causing a rash of goosebumps to overtake her. Before she could register his strange proximity, however, she was blind; overcome by a vivid white light that burst through her limbs like flame. 

“Ah!” The girl stumbled forward, and bit her lip to stifle another cry as the mark on her hand surged with magic.

_I didn’t miss that. I forgot how much that hurts._

“There,” The collar fell to the floor with a thud. “Better?”

Aaiva nodded, the motion causing her braid to tickle her neck. Prodding her throat with her fingers, she delighted in her newfound freedom, and shot the Commander a genuine, if not a little perplexed, smile. 

“Inquisitor.” Cullen straightened up, cleared his throat, and gripped the hilt of his sword so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Fearing a lecture, Aaiva stilled, her smile slowly fading. 

“I fear that I have not been completely honest with you, and as leader of the Inquisition, you…” he sighed and turned towards the door, “there is something I must tell you.”

“What is it?” Aaiva’s breath trembled in her throat, and she turned towards him; caught between fear and interest at his words. 

“No.” Cullen shook his head. “It’s…I’m not at my best, right now, and you need to rest. Another time. Just, please, do come see me when you have the chance.”

Aaiva nodded and gathered the discarded collar from the floor. Clutching it to her chest along with the tattered tome, she darted past the Commander and pressed a hand against the door. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, forcing herself to make eye contact with the weary man who had berated mercilessly just weeks ago. Reaching forward, she offered the Commander her hand.

“No, thank you…for coming back to m—us.” 

With a small smile, he took her hand in his and shook it.


	25. Giving Back *NSFW*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, this is just smut. Like, 2,000 words worth of smut. I mean, there's some plot in there....but it's basically just *coughs* SMUT. 
> 
> Here, let me say it again. SOLAVELLAN SMUT. seriously, smutty.
> 
> I warned you. I'm shameless.
> 
> After their return to Skyhold, the Inquisitor attempts to heal Solas' fever; her care prompting him to return the gesture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and as always I really appreciate feedback!!
> 
> <3

Solas awoke reluctantly, his mind drawn from the velvety depths of unconsciousness by a flickering light that shined like blood behind his eyes. Resisting the urge to wake, he pressed his eyelids closed and turned away from the intrusion, his cheek coming to rest against something soft. 

“Hey there, sleepyhead.” 

A husky murmur drew him further into awareness, prompting him to shift again. This time, however, his movement was halted as a firm warmth pressed against him on either side; rendering him immobile. 

“I’m almost done…just…” 

The unmistakable stench of elfroot suddenly filled his nostrils, the harsh scent causing his eyes to shoot open just as a hand crossed his vision. Reacting instinctually, the mage jerked his body forward and knocked the arm away; sparks flying from his fingertips.

“Solas!” The reprimand was lost among the shattering of glass as something fell. Turning towards the noise the mage's eyes caught sight of what once was a jar, its earthy green contents splattered all over a worn, stone floor. Out of the mess shone pieces of the wreckage, their jagged edges reflecting a twinkling orange light that illuminated the various other articles of healing scattered around him. As he took in the sight of bandages and medicines, the memory of the last several days came rushing back, and his hands darted to his neck.

There was a pained groan, and the pressure that had been attempting to hold Solas still was lifted. In his periphery he saw something shift in the darkness, and the tinkle of glass as the broken jar was gathered from the floor. Following the flickering light produced by the fire to his side, Solas could make out the shine of honey brown eyes and dark, curly hair as a figure met his gaze. 

“Are you feeling better? How is your head?”

Her voice crackled like flame, the rough sound filling Solas’ ears and exposing her exhaustion. An emotion too foreign to name rushed through Solas then as he took in the Inquisitor’s haggard form. Without thinking of the broken glass surrounding him, the mage rushed towards the girl and wrapped her in his arms. 

“I had a nightmare.” His voice shook as flashes of the dream he had just left trickled through his mind. It was his first dream in a long time, and was completely unlike any his other trips through the fade. This had been a true nightmare, unbidden, involuntary, and completely terrifying.

“I was helpless. You…I couldn’t…” he spoke in a rush, but stopped himself. How could he tell her what he had seen? How could he explain the image of her pale, lifeless form as she was devoured by demons in the darkness? How could he tell her that he had been utterly powerless to stop it?

“But that’s good isn’t it?” The woman untangled herself from his embrace, and Solas’ heart jumped into his throat at her absence. “Your magic is back.”

The mage shook his head, wishing for a way to explain the horror so that it would make sense to her, but before he could find the words; the essence of the dream was gone, the details of it lost within the fabric of his memory. Before he could attempt to recall it, a piercing shriek sounded at his side, making him jump. 

“Oh!” The inquisitor rushed to the fire and lifted a kettle from the flames. “You woke up just in time. This should make you feel a lot better.”

Solas sat immobile, still in shock over his rough awakening, as the girl stumbled around her darkened room. Elfroot filled his nostrils once more as she shoved a steaming cup of tea into his hand, and he had to force himself not to gag as the liquid slid down his throat. Aaiva, on the other hand, was more delicate in her consumption, and sipped the drink slowly; a large smile lighting up her face as she watched him struggle. 

Even though the taste was abysmal, Solas had to agree that it made him feel considerably better. His mind felt clear and his movements lighter as the herb worked to heal him. Finally devoid of the majority his own discomfort, Solas had the capacity to notice his companion; her every motion jerky and slow as though it caused her great pain just to move. Long, jagged marks ran across the length of her face, the red highlighted by large streaks of purple and blue; reminding Solas of his nightmare and her lifeless body. 

“Ma vhenan.” That strange, unnamable emotion filled Solas’ chest once again, and he lurched forward, wrapping the Inquisitor in a firm embrace. “Thank you. I feel…” His throat constricted, but he forced the words through his lips. “Thank you for caring for me. I feel better. Wonderful.”

“Good. I’m glad.” The acknowledgment rumbled against his shoulder as he pressed her tighter against him. 

“I am going to take care of you now.” It was an awkward statement of fact, but it felt necessary as the remnants of his nightmare hung on the edge of his vision, threatening him with a future that he refused to let come to pass. “It is the least I can do. You are hurt.” 

The girl in his arms stiffened, but he didn’t loosen his hold. 

“I’m fine,” she sighed, “I just need to sleep.”

Solas shook his head, and buried his face against her neck; the pressure causing the girl to cry out as he brushed against the discolored edge of a swollen swath of skin. Without a word, he rose to his feet, and pried the girl’s teacup from her fingers. After finding a suitable place for it by the fire, he gathered the Inquisitor in his arms and slung her over his shoulder; surprised at how agile he felt after days of sore muscles and fever. Tea did have its benefits, he supposed.

“No!” Aaiva immediately began to struggle, but her efforts were weak and almost laughable to Solas as he took her into the adjacent room. After a few moments, she stopped her flailing, and it took everything in Solas’ power not to tease her pathetic attempt at escape.

“Put me down.” 

Solas rolled his eyes, and drew a bath; remarking at the deliciously familiar tingle of magic as it left him.

“Put me down, _please._ ” 

A chuckle ripped its way from his throat, and he set the girl down on the floor next to the large wooden tub. One hand heating the water, he used the other to pull off the Inquisitor’s boots.

“What are you doing!?” She tried to scramble away, but Solas gripped her ankle; holding her in place.

“I am running a bath for you,” he answered, matter-of-factly. 

“I can run my own baths, thank you.” A small pout dragged along the edge of her bottom lip, and Solas had to fight the urge to wrap her in another embrace as his chest constricted with emotion.

“I am sure you can,” he conceded, “but I am going to care for you tonight. So, take off your clothes, or I will toss you in with them on.” 

Steam curled lazily from the tub, filling the small room with a hazy fog that distorted Solas’ view. Even so, he turned his back to the girl and smiled in satisfaction when he heard the rustle of cloth. 

“I was going to take a bath after you woke up, anyway.” Liquid splashed onto the floor as she entered the tub. “Seriously, I don’t need help, I’m fine. Ow!” She whimpered as she lowered herself into the water, the sound barely covered by Solas’ sharp hiss as he took in the sight of the myriad of bruises and cuts lining every inch of her naked skin. 

_How did this happen?_

Without a word, he left the room and made himself another cup of tea. Grimacing, he drank the heady concoction, encouraging the heartache that was prompted by his lovers’ battered body to diminish with every sip. He immediately felt his strength increase after finishing the drink, and tried his best to forget the taste as he made his way back to the bath.

“Ah!” The girl immediately covered herself when he entered and sank beneath the steaming water, triggering a laugh from Solas. Rolling his eyes, he made a point of averting his gaze and placed his attention on the shelves lining the wall. After a bit of rummaging, he found what he wanted, and took a seat next to the girl. 

They regarded each other in silence a few moments before Solas noticed the ghost of a smile flickering across her lips. 

“You look like a monster.” Her statement rippled strangely against the surface of the water. 

“A monster?” Solas tilted his head in confusion.

“Your face,” she giggled, “it’s green from the herbs.” 

Solas stood and went to the mirror. Sure enough, his face was streaked with green, the emerald color distorting his features and dimming the usual blue-gray shine of his eyes.

“You need a bath.” 

Solas nodded and continued his examination. Poking through the barrier of elfroot at the top of his head he could see stubble beginning to form—evidence of his time without magic to whisk it away. He ran a hand over the growth, and sighed.

“Would you like to get in with me?”

“What did you say?” Her question stole his breath and made him forget what he was doing. Turning to face the Inquisitor, he looked for any sign that he had misheard, but she repeated herself once more.

“Would you like to take a bath with me?” 

“Would you like me to take a bath with you?” He spoke deliberately, his voice low and even as he waited for her to change her mind. When she nodded her head, however, his heart jumped into his throat, and he had to fight to keep himself from grinning.

“Are you sure?” He gave her one last chance to decline, his fingers twitching over the hem of his shirt.

“I already said yes!” 

Solas undressed himself, his deft fingers making short work of the buttons on his shirt and breeches. The Inquisitor watched him the entire time, sinking further beneath the water as each article of clothing fell to the floor, and Solas noticed a blush fill the tips of her ears. 

He bit his lip as he slid into the tub behind her and the hot water rushed over his skin. Ignoring the girls gasp of surprise, Solas adjusted so that his legs lay over hers and reached over the edge for the soap to clean his face. After the last of the elfroot was gone, he turned his attention to Aaiva. 

“Come here.” 

He scooted her closer, lathering the soap up in his hands before placing them gently on her shoulders. Doing his best not to linger, he scrubbed her neck and arms, his efforts prompting soft groans whenever he passed over a sore spot. 

When he was done with her back, he let his hands fall to her waist; his pace slowing as he considered the proper course of action. Making up his mind to leave her front alone, he handed her the soap, and reached over the tub for the shampoo.

“Wait.” Aaiva turned to look at him, her eyes wide. “Why did you stop?”

“I thought you would want to do that yourself.”

“Hah! Aren’t you supposed to be taking care of me?” She tried to sound playful, but her voice trembled, betraying her nerves. 

Solas didn’t speak. Fighting the desire shooting through his core, he took the soap back from her and placed it tentatively against her stomach. When his hands reached the area just under her breasts, he faltered, his throat beginning to tighten. 

“I think that is enough.” His voice broke as his self-control wavered. His desire to care for here was turning into something else entirely, and he chided himself on his selfishness. 

“Please,” Aaiva whimpered, surprising him by placing her hand over his. Her breath was coming in short bursts, and she was almost completely flush against Solas as she coaxed his hand upwards. “Please.”

_You are hurt_ , he wanted to remind her, _you need to rest, I am supposed to take care of you_ , but all of that flew from his mind once she placed his palm over her breast. Just like that, he fell, his self-control dissolved as he let his desire take over.

“Oh!” She keened as he squeezed her breasts. Pulling her closer, he place his lips against her neck; shooting a small blast of healing magic towards the area.

“What is that?” she gasped when he did the same to the other side.

“I am healing you, vhenan,” he murmured against her shoulder, his voice rumbling over her skin and causing goosebumps to break out over her arms. 

Running his hands over her belly, he shot more waves of magic into her, and her back arched sharply in response. The motion pressed her backside directly into his groin and he stilled; fighting the urge to take her right then. 

“Please, don’t stop.” Reaching behind her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him forward. When he didn’t continue, she whimpered and turned to face him.

He would have laughed had he not been so preoccupied with regaining his control. Her face was beet red, her eyes glassy and dark with desire. The marks that had previously littered her torso were gone, given way to a glistening expanse of tawny skin. He felt his belly lurch as she lunged at him and pressed her mouth firmly against his. In the back of his mind, he could hear the rush of water as it splashed over the side of the tub, but the thought was erased as she turned around and wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Aaiva, you need—”

“Shh!” His words were swallowed by her mouth as she kissed him, and he willingly followed her example, allowing another wave of healing magic to pour from his lips as he returned her embrace. 

“Ah!” 

Solas jerked his hips upwards as she rolled against him, an unmistakable bulge beginning to form between them as his desire grew. Her breathing hitched at the contact, and she let her head fall back, prompting Solas forward. Taking the newly healed skin between his lips, Solas bit down gently, covering her throat in a new batch of red marks.

Once her neck was to his satisfaction, he moved down to her breasts, and slid his teeth over her nipples; eliciting a sharp groan from the Inquisitor. 

“Solas, please!” She pressed herself firmly against his hardened member, her request to move forward clear, but Solas shook his head; determined to make the moment last as long as possible.

“Not yet,” he hissed as she rolled her hips against him. Desperate to keep her still, he grabbed her by the waist, but she fought back just as hard, and almost sent his resolve tumbling over the edge as she wrapped a curious hand around the bulge between them. 

Her eyes widened as she gently caressed his member. After a moment of exploration, she wrapped her fingers around him and applied pressure, moving her hand the same way she had been moving her hips just moments before. 

“Oh, Aaiva.” Solas had to bite his lip to stifle a heavy moan. Meeting her gaze, he grabbed her by the waist and stood; letting the water fall from their bodies a moment before he stepped out of the tub. Aaiva tightened her legs around his waist and buried her face into his neck as he took her out of the bathroom. When he reached the edge of the bed, he untangled her arms and tossed her onto the mattress.

She made a small sound of surprise when she landed, though the noise quickly turned into a high-pitched giggle as Solas began to nip the area just above her navel. Grinning against her, he brought his hand up to her breast and let his fingers dance over her skin until she was laughing uncontrollably.

Before she could recover, he split her legs apart and slid down to the apex of her thighs. 

Her moan resounded deep in her belly; deep enough that Solas could feel it reverberating against his lips as he pleasured her. Using her hips as leverage, he slowly increased the pressure against her clitoris until every slip of his tongue had her bucking against him wildly; his name on her lips. 

“Solas!” She grabbed his wrists and pulled, her body bowing beneath the force of her pleasure. “Solas, Solas, Solas!” Her breathing stopped for a moment and she squeezed his hands, her body pressing into him as she arched her back. Lifting his head, he watched her orgasm, his own body tightening in response. He couldn’t resist any more.

“Oh!” she whimpered as he kissed her belly, his attentions eventually making their way to her neck. Murmuring in elvish, he nipped along her jawline, his stomach clenching as she writhed beneath him.

“Can I..?” 

She nodded vigorously before he could finish his question; her eyes rolling back as Solas grinded his hips against her. 

“You must tell me if I hurt you, alright?”

“Yes.” She nodded again, pressed herself against him and slid her warmth over his member. Covering her lips with his own, he stifled her heavy moan as he pushed himself deep into her sex; his eyes slamming shut as he battled the waves of pleasure that threatened to undo him too soon. 

“Solas,” Aaiva whimpered, tightening around him as he began to move inside of her. Solas cried out in response, a shuddering groan escaping from his lips before he could stop it. Burying his face in the curve of her neck, he picked up speed, noting the way Aaiva’s body arched to meet each thrust. 

“Ohh!” Her voice rose in pitch, the sound corresponding with her body as it began to pulse around his member. The sensation brought him to the brink, and he felt himself falling over the edge.

“Come with me, vhenan,” he moaned, his thrusts becoming erratic, “let me hear you, ma huarasha!”

She cried out his name as her body became impossibly tight around him, her back bowing off of the bed. Solas followed her over the edge immediately, his hips jerking as he spilled himself inside of her. 

Her eyes rolled back as he filled her, and he murmured nonsense to her as they both came down from their high. She returned his words with whimpers and kisses, and for a time he was certain that they both had forgotten about the strange horrors they had experienced in the last weeks and the ritual they were to undertake. All that existed for him in that moment was her, and he felt himself brimming with such happiness that it made him reluctant to acknowledge their reality. 

“I love you,” the Inquisitor muttered sleepily, her eyelids drooping as Solas traced the pattern of bite-marks that he had left on her neck and breasts. 

“I love you too, ma vhenan.” _Impossible though it may seem._

Waiting until after her breathing had evened out, Solas rose from the bed. Looking around the fireplace, he searched the piles of stuff that Aaiva had gathered until he caught sight of the tattered red binding of the mysterious book that she had shown him. Peaking over the bedframe, he checked that she was still asleep, and began to flip through the pages; examining each line carefully before moving on to the next. Once he found what he was looking for, he let out a shaking sigh and began to copy the spell, word for word, on a piece of parchment stolen from her desk. 

_I will not let her hurt you, vhenan,_ he promised the sleeping girl behind him as the faded dredges of his nightmare tickled the base of his skull, _I will not let Mythal take you._


	26. Revenge *NSFW*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in honor of Solas Smut Saturday.  
> \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> "Is this your revenge, then?” She raised her eyebrows expectantly. “Do you plan to heal me, then fuck me into oblivion like you did last night?”
> 
> Solas gaped at her, an astonished chuckle bursting from his throat. “Is that what you think I did? _Fuck_ you into oblivion?” Setting her foot to the side, he laughed again, his lips curling back to reveal his perfect, white teeth. “My love,” his eyes darkened into black, sparkling orbs of amusement, “that was not, by any means, _fucking_.”
> 
> \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The inquisitor wasn’t sure how this had all started.

Actually—scratch that.

 She knew how it started; with a playful slap to her behind just as she was getting out of bed. Her ass shook with the force of his hand, the entire area tingling as it transformed into a glowing pink imprint of his palm. Clearly proud of his work, Solas crossed his arms neatly behind his head and grinned at her brazenly, his eyes turning a profound shade of blue as he regarded her.

The air between them had grown thick with an unspoken challenge; his grin slowly transforming into a haughty smirk that twisted the girl’s insides in an tantalizingly delicious way. His eyes glittered dangerously as she approached, following her every move, and his relaxed demeanor grew taught with expectation.

_Come and get me,_ his body seemed to beckon; his muscles tensing as she walked closer, _I dare you._

So she jumped him.

Throwing herself over him, she pinned his elbows to the pillow, latched her teeth onto his throat, and sucked as hard as she could. His skin was soft, and it felt strangely good to bite—the sensation somehow linked to the very core of her desire. His pulse beat furiously against her lips, that unconscious reaction only deepening her resolve as she created the biggest hickey she could manage.

However, the events after that were blurry, and as Aaiva crawled through the loft in her chambers in search of a place to hide, she had to wonder how things had escalated so severely.

“Where are you hiding, da’lan?” The usual gentle lilt of Solas’ voice was gone, replaced by melodious taunt that made the inquisitor’s hair stand on end.  Aaiva pressed her cheek against the floor, listening for movement between a crack in two wooden panels. When the ladder to the loft shuddered against the stone wall, the girl smiled.

_He took the bait._

She waited until it creaked, indicating that Solas was climbing up, and got to her feet. Not bothering to think about how stupid her plan was, she jumped over the side.

The loud pop that resonated from her ankle as it twisted beneath her told her that she must have landed wrong, but any pain she may have felt was quickly overshadowed by panic as Solas jumped out from behind her dresser; his eyes glowing madly as his mouth twisted into a wolfish grin.

_He tricked me!_

Aaiva rolled across the bed and darted to the door; howling in strange mixture of terror and agony when she caught a glimpse of his shadow as she hobbled down the stairs. She locked the door with magic on her way out, though she was fully aware that it would barely hinder the mage, and stumbled towards the exit, her speed fueled entirely by an exhilarating combination of raw fear and delight as the door behind her slammed open.

“You cannot escape, Inquisitor.” His voice shook the dusty tower, the threat behind his words rumbling through the beams and directly into Aaiva’s belly. There was a flash of light, and the door handle leading into the main hall was frozen in a sheet of ice. Sparks flew from the Inquisitor’s fingers as she tried to melt the block, but it was impossibly thick.

“Bring it, old man!” Aaiva screeched, eliciting a barking laugh from her pursuer. Desperate, she jiggled the handle, simultaneously trying to the melt the ice and dislodge the lock. The door rattled with her efforts, but remained sealed. Her frustration mounting, she kicked the door, and was gifted with a blast of pain that radiated from her ankle to her chest.

“You thought you could get away,” A sultry whisper sounded in her ear as she was pressed against the doorframe. “But you should know by now that I always win.”

Solas parted her hair, and she shivered as he scraped the back of her neck with his teeth.

“What am I going to do with you now that I have you, hm?”

Before she could answer, Solas whipped her around to face him. She was surprised by his strength; just yesterday he had been too weak to stand. Now he was pinning her to the doorframe, mischief glimmering like stars in his eyes.

Aaiva pursed her lips and struggled against the hands holding her. Her efforts were half-hearted, however; and lessened as Solas’ triumphant smile grew. He let her thrash around for a while, his eyes roaming every inch of Aaiva’s heaving body as she writhed beneath him, and the girl wondered if, perhaps, he was getting off on watching her attempts at escape.

Her question was answered almost immediately. As if she weighed nothing, the mage slung the inquisitor over his shoulder and strutted off towards her room.

When they arrived, he scooped a scrap of cloth off of the floor and tossed Aaiva onto the bed. Before she could even think about trying to get away, he wrapped the cloth around her wrists and tied the edge to the bedpost.

“What are you doing?” Aaiva huffed as she tugged against the restraint.

“I would rather you did not escape before I could enact my revenge, vhenan.”

_Revenge?_ Aaiva swallowed, her belly fluttering in anticipation. Suddenly, her world was thrown off-kilter as Solas yanked her leg. She struggled, attempting to kick him away, but a cool whisper against her calf subdued her.

“Keep. Still.”

Solas yanked again, and she slid down flat on the bed.

“What made you think jumping from the loft was a good idea?”

A nervous laugh tumbled from Aaiva’s lips; she wasn’t entirely sure how to explain her irrational panic. “You were chasing me, I was afraid.”

“Afraid?” A dark smile crossed his lips, but faded once he took stock of her injured ankle. “So you jump off of a ledge?”

Aaiva shrugged, then yelped as Solas adjusted her foot. The pain was quickly alleviated as icy tendrils of magic shot into her system, bringing with it memories of their romp the night before. Feeling bold, the Inquisitor spoke up, her voice deepening.

“Is this your revenge, then?” She raised her eyebrows expectantly. “Do you plan to heal me, then fuck me into oblivion like you did last night?”

Solas gaped at her, an astonished chuckle bursting from his throat. “Is that what you think I did? Fuck you into oblivion?” Setting her foot to the side, he laughed again, his lips curling back to reveal his perfect, white teeth. “My love,” his eyes darkened into black, sparkling orbs of amusement, “that was not, by any means, _fucking_.”

Aaiva lost her breath, intrigued by his statement but fearful of the implications it held. She was still reeling from the night before, every sparkling glance or dip of his voice causing her to sink further into the pool of desire that had sprung from their dalliance. What else could he do to her? What more could he make her feel?

Solas returned to her ankle, the ghost of his laughter still tugging against the corners of his mouth. Once he had finished, he sent her through a series of exercises to determine how it had healed. Aaiva went through the motions without speaking, her mind still trying to wrap itself around his declaration and becoming increasingly preoccupied with his hands as he guided her through the movements.

His touch was delicate, subtle, his fingers trickling over her skin like the breeze. A few times, after shooting her a mischievous glance, he would brush against her calf; the action sparking a flame deep within her belly. The magic he was casting didn’t help by any means—the constant rush of energy threatening to send Aaiva into a frenzy. As she attempted to distract herself, she found her mind wandering. She recalled the time weeks ago when he had used those fingers on her, how his hands had run all over her bare skin before coming to rest in her most sensitive area. She remembered how he had forced them inside of her, spreading her and bringing her to the brink of release.

Aaiva whimpered as heat rushed to the spot between her legs, dampening her smalls. The noise caught Solas’ attention, she was sure, judging by the smirk that flashed across his face. She clamped her knees together as another wave of desire rushed through her, and let her head fall back to the mattress.

She hadn’t realized that he had stopped his healing until she opened her eyes and saw him standing above her. Without a word, he unraveled the knotted cloth tying her to the bedpost and walked towards the bathroom. The inquisitor yanked her hands free and watched him go, confusion fighting for a place in her lust-addled brain. After some ambling about, he knelt down scooped up his shirt and breeches; tugging the latter on with such slowness that Aaiva was half-convinced that it was deliberate.

“What about your revenge?” She suggested hopefully. She watched the lean muscles over his stomach ripple as he laughed, her eyes naturally following the cut of his abdomen to the deep ‘v’ that disappeared beneath his waistband. Tossing his shirt onto the bed, he came to sit next to Aaiva. Before she had time to get up, he was on her throat; nibbling at the skin just under her jaw.

“Oh!” Red-hot blooms of electricity shot through her, making her moan. She could feel Solas smile against her collarbone as she pressed against him, and she knocked her knees together to fight off the dizzying pulse of her need as it coursed through her.

“Ah,” she keened as he traveled to her breasts. Taking one nipple in his mouth, Solas caressed the other; pinching it between his thumb and index finger and then switching sides. Unable to handle the heat flooding her smallclothes, Aaiva darted an inquisitive hand to the root of her misery, her body melting into a shuddering sigh as she pressed against the slick wetness between her legs. Noticing her intentions, Solas’ hand came to rest over her belly, his fingers trickling lazily over her skin until he reached her hand. The added pressure made her eyes roll, and she let his fingers take over; hoping desperately all the while that he would relieve the tension burning within her.

But as quickly as he had come, he was gone, and Aaiva’s mind whirled dizzyingly as she tried to comprehend his sudden absence. Across the room, Solas pulled on his shirt, a beaming smile reflecting in the bright, sky blue expanse of his eyes.

“Why?” It was all she could think to say. Her body hummed with unspent passion, and she found herself lost in a storm of desire as her body continued to pulse.

“This is my revenge,” he answered with a tilt of his head. Scooping up another bundle of fabric, he tossed it her way. “Now, come along. We may still catch breakfast.”


End file.
